Page 28 of Unruly Defender
***THREE WEEKS LATER***
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Gracy whispers as we’re standing in front of a large mansion that’s owned by her biological father.
I step in front of her and cup her face.
“You’ve been postponing this for three weeks now.
It’s time. Besides, you already met him a few times before you knew he was your biological father.
You’ve mentioned how friendly and sweet he was and how your mother loved spending time with him.
There’s no need to be nervous. Clemente is here, you’ve seen him multiple times after knowing he’s your brother. And I’m right here too.”
“I know I’ve seen Clemente, but it’s not like he killed Spencer.
I can’t help but be afraid I will blurt out something about Spencer and rattle off words how I think he should have come back for me and how my mother should have told him about me the second she knew she was pregnant.
See? I’m such a mess with all of this.” Her voice cracks up at the end and I know how hard these past weeks have been for her.
She might have been holding up strong but when the dust settles it’s the pieces you have to pick up behind you to move forward. We’ve been doing this together but Gracy has been putting this meeting off for weeks now and it’s not helping either one.
Clemente has called me a few times to ask for my help in bringing them together because his father has been doing better ever since he killed Spencer. He’s excited to meet Gracy and I can’t blame him, everyone loves her.
All the bikers of Unruly Defenders MC love her and go out of their way to make her feel at home at the clubhouse. And that’s another thing, she demanded we’d live at the clubhouse for the time being.
It was something I would have been willing to compromise with because the estate is close by too, but I loved her reasoning since it mirrored my own.
The MC needs me—and her along with it—as a visible presence.
Building up everything just as the connection between us.
The strong foundation is there and we have all the time in the world to make it stronger to rise above.
“We’re all family, Gracelynn. And some might think we’re a screwed up one, but we relish in that shit because at our dinner table there isn’t a limitation of what can or cannot be discussed.
So, you throw out what’s on your mind. I’m pretty damn sure your father would rather face awkward questions than to not see you at all. ”
Her eyes fill with understanding and determination. “You’re right. We’re doing this.”
“We are,” I agree and ring the bell before she can change her mind.
It’s unnecessary to ring the bell because we already passed security but I’m sure they were watching the cameras and gave us this moment before opening the door.
My suspicion is correct when Clemente is the one opening the door. “Sis, glad you could make it.”
“And I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” Gracy mutters before she shoots him a vicious grin and asks, “How’s your fiancée doing?”
There isn’t a twitch on his face as he instantly replies, “Still breathing and plotting ways to kill me, the usual.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. The deal he made through his uncle to make the cartel Rush was working with back off, is backfiring because the woman he needs to marry turns out to be a temperamental spitfire and quite his match.
Gracy was there when he needed to pick her up from the airport and has been visiting her regularly.
As a result, they have started to build up a friendship.
Clemente doesn’t even seem phased by the fact Gracy takes his fiancée’s side most of the time when it comes to any argument thrown between them.
He’s actually happy those two hit it off as friends.
“Give her my best,” Gracy chuckles and I follow her into the hallway.
Clemente leads us to a large room with a fireplace. The rest of the space is breathtaking but the fireplace is huge. Large enough to burn a body instead of some wood chunks. I rip my eyes away from it and glance around.
Two large couches are placed across from each other with a table in between with a fluffy white rug draped over the granite floor.
The ceiling is high and so are the floor to ceiling windows on one side of this space.
I count two big green plants and nothing on the wall.
It’s a modern interior and yet it radiates no warmth.
“Gracy, Henley,” Stephano’s baritone voice rumbles as he steps closer and holds out his hand for me to take.
“Sir.” I nod and shake his hand.
His attention shifts to my woman, his daughter.
“Gracy,” Stephano says again and takes her hand in both of his. “I’m glad you could come.”
“And I’m glad you killed Spencer.” She gasps at her own words and releases a string of curses as she pulls her hand away from Stephano.
Gracy’s head swings to me and she’s wearing a look that states, “I told you this would happen.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Stephano releases an uneasy chuckle and points at the couch. “Why don’t we have a seat and have a little talk, it’s way overdue, don’t you think?”
Gracy smiles at him and follows Stephano to the couch. I’m about to do the same but Clemente stops me. “Henley, can I have a word?”
I glance at Gracy but she’s already wrapped in a discussion with Stephano and when I see him handing over a pile of pictures of her mother in her younger years, I know these two need to have a private talk. Clemente and I slip out of the room and head for the garden.
“Did you drag me out here to give those two some space? If so, I could use a cold beer.”
Clemente shoots me a grin and takes out his phone and types away. It doesn’t take long for a guy in a suit to stroll out, a bottle of Heineken in each hand. There’s a moment of silence where we watch the guy leave and just sit to enjoy the sun beaming down on us.
“Rush is handled, I thought you needed to know,” Clemente suddenly says.
My head whips in his direction. “Handled?” I question, wondering just what he means by this because Rush was handled; rotting in jail for the rest of his life.
“Remember the deal I made with my uncle when I reached out so the cartel would disappear from this district? It included for them to clean up loose ends. Rush died in a prison riot yesterday, we just received confirmation.”
All I can do is stare at Clemente. He takes a slow sip and gives me a wry smile. “You didn’t think we were going to allow the chance of him escaping and coming anywhere near Gracy, did you? He killed her mother, Henley.”
I slowly shake my head, understanding his reasoning but also aware how his life and mine are worlds apart.
His ways are ruthless whereas I was seeking justice.
And yes, my thoughts might have gone to the place where I wanted to kill Rush with my bare hands but I’m also aware of consequences.
I guess Clemente and his father don’t have those problems.
I take a pull from the cold beer and almost spit it out when Clemente says, “I need your advice on how to handle a woman because I’m not going to survive handling the one I’m saddled up with.”
Motherfucker, how does this guy easily change topics like this, and for fucking real, “Are you seriously asking me this? You, a man who practically runs the underworld of California, can’t handle one single woman?”
“I could,” Clemente grunts. “But that would mean I have to follow into familia tradition I don’t want to dabble in.
There’s a difference in control, Henley.
You of all people should know what the MC is like when it’s being led by you or when it was swallowed by the dictatorship of Rush.
You have the men’s respect while they had none for Rush.
And it’s not that I want her to respect me, but a form of being equal would be nice. ”
I think of how to answer his question. “There is no simple answer, Clemente. The two of you need to find a way to come together. If you’re going head to head together this fierce it shows raw emotion.
The whole fine line of love and hate.” I swallow another sip of my beer and tell him, “First time I met Gracy it didn’t exactly go smoothly.
We were snapping and grunting at each other.
I’m telling you this because a connection can be instantly and might have to settle before it can be exploited.
Who knows, the way you flare up and go head to head with each other.
..it might lead to fireworks between the sheets. ”
Clemente stares hypnotized at his beer until he drags his gaze away and mutters, “Who knows.” His head swings my way. “We’ll find out next week since our wedding day is set. How about you and my sister? Any plans on getting married?”
“Way to shift the attention from you to me, asshole.” A bark of laughter slips past my lips and flows away as his question roams around in my head.
“To be honest...if I knew she’d say yes, I’d drop to one knee and pop the question right fucking now.
There might be a lot of uncertainty in life but she’s the one thing solid, she’s mine. ”
“It would have been nice if you’d ask my permission first,” Stephano grumbles from behind us, making me turn to stare in the watery eyes of the woman who will always hold my heart.
“Then you’d better get on one knee and pop that question because my answer would be yes,” she croaks, giving me her heart to hold in return.