Page 39 of Wild Side (Vicious Reapers MC #3)

MAVERICK

FOUR MONTHS LATER

“I can’t be going on a run of any kind right now,” I state.

There is a moment of silence between me and Viking. His blue eyes focus on me. He doesn’t even blink as he stares at me. I’ve successfully not gone on any runs at all since we got in bed with Robin and started providing his trucks protection as they go across country.

“Why?” Viking asks.

My eyes widen as I lean forward slightly. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I thought the babies don’t come for another couple of months.”

I snort. “Which would be fine if they weren’t plural. I gotta be here just in case something happens. No way am I going anywhere until after they’re born.”

Viking rolls his eyes to the ceiling, then shifts his attention back to meet mine. “Fine,” he snaps.

He’s obviously annoyed, though I don’t really think it’s focused on me. I have a feeling it has to do with something else… maybe even someone else. I ignore his shitty attitude, knowing it likely has nothing to do with me.

Standing, I tap the table a couple of times. His gaze flicks to meet mine. “I’m going to get with Bullet and see what I can do here to help out, yeah?”

I’ve been slacking as a brother. I know I have. I’m the club secretary, and I know it’s time for me to step up to my full potential. Zadie and I are stable. The babies are good. It’s time for me to put in some real hours.

“I’m in a shit mood,” Viking grumbles.

Jerking my chin toward him, I don’t agree verbally. He doesn’t need me to confirm or deny a goddamn thing.

So I don’t.

“Whatever it is, it’ll work out,” I say. “You wanna talk about it, I’m here.”

Viking snorts once, then inhales a deep breath before he lets it out slowly.

I can sense that whatever is weighing on him is heavy.

I don’t pry, though. It’s not my business to demand he talk to me.

I’m his brother, not his therapist. Although if that’s what he needs me to be, that’s what I’ll be for him.

“You’re right. It’ll work itself out one way or another.”

I don’t know what that means, but again, not my business. Leaving him, I turn around and walk out of the room. I’m heading toward Bullet’s office when I hear my brother call out my name, causing me to stop.

Goose is standing at the entrance to the conference room, where we typically hold church. Arching a brow, I tilt my head to the side in question. He doesn’t say anything else. He jerks his chin toward the room before slipping inside, a silent request to follow him.

The room is empty when I enter, save for Goose, who is sitting in his usual chair. He doesn’t say anything right away. My eyes scan the space around me, taking in all the memorabilia from the club's inception until now.

I can’t help but wonder what the men from the first days would think about us now. I hope they’d be proud. Slowly, I make my way over to the chair across from Goose’s. Sinking down into the seat, I lean back slightly as I wait for him to speak.

He opens a file folder, which surprises me. My brother may be good with numbers, as the treasurer, but paperwork is not his strong suit.

“What’s this?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything immediately.

He pushes the folder across the wooden table so it’s directly in front of me. Dipping my chin slightly, I look down at the papers in front of me. I don’t read them, but one thing stands out.

It’s a name.

Sabrina Kane.

“What’s this?” I ask again.

“Sabrina Kane. Zadie’s mother.”

My eyes snap up to meet his. “Sabrina Kane?”

He dips his chin in a single nod, then clears his throat. “Sabrina Kane was a seventeen-year-old kid when she met and ran off with Halo Rowan. Had a bad home life, but a grandmother who gave a shit. Grandma filed a missing person’s report that went a hell of a lot of nowhere.”

I flip the page, and there, staring back at me, is an almost exact copy-and-paste replica of Zadie. Her hair is a little bigger, her makeup darker, but it’s her.

That is Zadie’s mother.

She’s beautiful. And young. Too goddamn young. I thought the fact that I was nine years older than Zadie was bad, but this goes beyond that. Halo was my age, and this person looking back at me is very much not a woman yet, but instead a girl.

My brother doesn’t stop; he continues. “Once she was knocked up, he kept her around for just long enough to give birth to Zadie. Then he did exactly what he said. He turned her out. But not to the men in the club.”

“To whom?” I demand, my body feeling like it’s vibrating, barely containing my rage, and ready to explode all at the same time.

I know that none of this has to do with Goose. He’s just the messenger, but I’m still pissed the fuck off. I’m so angry I could seriously punch my fist through the table. My knee begins to bounce, and I wonder how I’m going to tell my woman this.

How am I going to tell Zadie what happened to her mother, what her own father did to her when she was younger than Zadie is now? Fuck. What a goddamn shit show. But apparently, that’s not the end of it.

“He sold her to a pimp in the Bay Area known for mistreating his girls. She died of an overdose a year later.”

Fuck.

Closing the file, I stand from my chair, my eyes finding my brother’s. This took a toll on him, which surprises me. He’s not usually an emotional type of guy. That trait fell more onto me than him.

“You good?” I ask.

He shakes his head once. “I hate that she went through that.”

“Yeah,” I rasp. “Me too.”

“We did that to her,” he whispers.

Slamming my palm down on the table, I make him jump, his gaze snapping to mine in surprise. “No,” I grind out. “We did not. The Reapers did not. One fucked-up piece of shit did that. And I killed him. I wish I could do it all over again and make it hurt a hell of a lot more.”

Goose jerks his chin up slightly, his eyes staying on mine for a brief moment before he closes them in a slow nod and gathers himself. “Go home to your woman. Tell her or don’t. That’s up to you. I’m glad she found us.”

My lips curve up into a grin. “I’m fucking grateful she found me, but at the same time, I’m happy as fuck she has a family now, one that loves her.”

“I love her. She’s my sister,” he states.

It’s the first time my brother has admitted to me that he even likes Zadie, let alone loves her. He honestly didn’t have to tell me shit, though. I knew he fell for her about the same time I realized I didn’t just want her, that I loved her.

I don’t say anything else. It would make shit awkward if I did. Instead, I turn around and walk away, clutching the folder against my chest as I make my way toward my bike. I’m going home.

My conversation with Bullet will have to wait for another day.

I need to go home and hug my woman for a long-ass time.

So, that’s exactly what I do. I ride home, and although I don’t want to, I tell her about her mother.

She already knew her mother had to have been gone a long time ago, but she’d never seen a picture of her.

I take in the quiet moment where Zadie traces her mother’s face with her finger. I watch as her eyes fill with tears, then she lifts those wet eyes to meet mine.

“Thank you for this. It’s amazing,” she whispers.

“It was Goose,” I say.

She slides her tongue across her bottom lip. “I think I need to get a picture frame and put her up on the bookshelf.”

Reaching for her hand, I wrap my fingers around hers, and I dip my chin in a single nod. “I think that would be really nice, honey.”

“I like the name Sabrina.”

“Me too.” Even if I fucking hated that name, I would tell Zadie I loved it with every fiber of my being. Good news is, I don’t hate it at all. It’s a pretty name, and when Zadie places her hand on her round belly, I know exactly what she’s thinking.

“Baby A should be Sabrina.”

“Yeah, she should,” I agree.

We make the decision. It’s an easy one, and I’m glad I told Zadie about her mother, even if it’s ugly and sad. It’s the closure she needed. Zadie reaches out to me, taking my hand in hers, and squeezes gently.

“I love you, Chase,” she whispers.

I squeeze her hand, but don’t say it back. Instead, I lift the hand I’m holding to my lips and kiss it gently. Her entire body relaxes. I watch as her eyes even soften and her lips curve up into a smile.

This amazing and gorgeous woman.

The absolute fucking love of my life.

I cannot wait to spend every goddamn day with her—every single one.

ZADIE

SIX MONTHS LATER

I wouldn’t have ever guessed a year ago that I would be where I am right now. My life has been completely and totally turned upside down. It’s been flipped around and shaken up, too.

But it’s also perfect.

It is just that—perfection.

This is the first night out without the babies.

Lainey, who has become not only my best friend but also a lifeline and supplier of all pastries, is watching them for me.

I glance down at my phone, not for the first time, and let out a heavy sigh.

She hasn’t contacted me, which means everything is fine, but still, I’m nervous.

Lips touch the side of my neck, and I spin around to see the love of my life standing in front of me.

“They’re fine,” Chase murmurs.

“I know,” I whisper. “I do. I’m just worried.”

He laughs softly. It’s not like we’re going to be out all night long, and at the same time, they’re asleep and probably won’t even wake up before we get back home. But that doesn’t take away the stress of not being right there, just a few feet away from them.

“You’re a good mom,” Chase says, not for the first time.

He’s told me every single day since the day they were born that I’m a good mother. I don’t know if I’ll ever believe him, but it’s sweet, nonetheless. He wraps his hand around mine, lacing our fingers as he tugs me behind him and toward The Copper Pot.

It’s the nicest place in town and the best restaurant to go out to without being too far from home. We take our seats, and I look at the menu. Everything looks amazing, but I also can’t stop thinking about the babies.

Sabrina and Trent are everything to me. They are my entire world, and just being this far away from them is making it hard to breathe.

“Honey,” Chase calls out.

I lift my head from the menu, my gaze finds his, and I try to muster up the best smile I can. His lips twitch into a smirk as he shakes his head from side to side. I wait for him to tell me to relax, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he lifts his hand and makes a motion for the waitress to come over. I watch, unsure of what to do or say. I am semi-frozen in my seat, but the moment he begins to talk, my entire body relaxes, almost as if every ounce of stress instantly releases from my body.

“We’ve decided that we’d like to put in an order for takeout.”

Fifteen minutes later, a bag of food in hand, we rush out of the restaurant and head back home. Climbing into the passenger seat of my brand-new four-door Jeep, I place the bag of food at my feet.

Chase laces his fingers with mine, lifting my hand to his lips. “Let’s go home to our babies, honey,” he rasps against my skin.

A few moments later, a smiling Lainey gives us a wave goodbye, and we are sitting across from one another with an amazing meal between us, our still sleeping babies just a few feet away in their shared bedroom.

While we eat, our conversation is nothing deep and meaningful, just the regular, normal dinner convo.

This relationship is like nothing I ever imagined.

It’s easy, almost too easy, it seems. I try not to wait for things to go bad, but I can’t deny that it feels too good.

I am so in love with Chase, with my life, with my family.

“Thank you, Chase,” I whisper. And I don’t just mean for tonight. I mean for my life, but I don’t say that because if I do, I might cry.

“No, thank you, Zadie. For everything.”

Tears well in my eyes anyway. Standing, I reach for his hand. He slips his fingers in mine, but doesn’t allow me to guide him anywhere. Instead, he tugs me against his chest. I fall off balance slightly, my hands pressing against his chest in an attempt to catch myself.

Tilting my head back, I look up into his eyes. “I love you, Zadie. Thank you for giving me a chance to live a life I never thought was possible.”

Before I can even respond, he dips his chin, and his lips brush mine, and that simple kiss causes a frenzy of hands, teeth, tongues, and lips. We strip our clothes off each other as quickly as possible, leaving them all over the house.

He doesn’t even have to use his fingers to get me ready—I am primed. He lays me down on the living room floor before he slowly slides inside me with one thrust. I let out an exhale of relief.

My eyes slide closed.

Heaven.

He fills me, stretching me.

Perfection.

“Please,” I whisper. “Please move.”

“Look at me,” he demands as he takes my hands, lacing his fingers with mine as he guides my arms over my head. “I want your shins against my ribs, honey. Relax and take me, Zadie.”

His words come out in a whisper, and I swear he could say anything like that, and I would do it. I do not hesitate to lift my legs, pressing my shins against his ribs, and he rewards me.

He moves.

Expertly.

“You’re fucking perfect, Zadie,” he rasps. “Be mine forever.”

“I am,” I exhale. “Forever.”

He dips his chin, his hips still moving, his pelvis grinding against my clit with each stroke. I’m climbing higher and higher, my breathing coming out in pants as I make my way toward the edge. I am ready to fall off, to tumble down. I cannot wait. I am here for it.

Then he says something that causes me to gasp.

“Marry me, honey.”

I come.

And when I do, I cry out the word yes.