Page 2 of Zeppelin (Satan’s Angels MC #9)

“Mmm. At least we agree on something.”

“Are you calling me disgusting and vile?”

“No, but you are immature and annoying.”

“You loved my brother.”

“I didn’t,” I choke. At least that’s the truth, but the most painful one to get out.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t.” I have to look down at the thin strip of sidewalk here because I feel like the world’s biggest asshole saying something like this at someone’s celebration of life.

“I liked him. I liked him a lot. But I didn’t love him.

We didn’t have time to fall in love. It was about us being good together in certain ways, but in a lifetime?

As partners who make it and are there for each other and grow old? That wasn’t going to happen.”

“There wasn’t anything wrong with my brother,” Decay snaps.

I have the courage to pull my eyes up. “I didn’t say that there was and I’m sorry if you took it that way. We were just different people who worked in the short term and wanted different things in the long run. Do you understand?”

“Did he know you were pregnant?”

So much for his attention being diverted.

Decay reads my silence the exact wrong way.

“He would have married you. He would have done the right thing. Despite you thinking that we’re meat-headed idiots, he would have done whatever you wanted.

Supported you financially. Been in the baby’s life.

It would have been a good thing,” he stops, slowing his breathing while he tries to get himself under control.

Maybe he’s doing the military counting thing.

I could use some of that while I stand here and pretend like I’m not freaking out.

“I could still make it a good thing.” He thumps his chest, smacking his leather jacket with the massive patch of the stone angel with the bowed head on the back.

I know it well. Obviously, Grave had the same one.

“You should take my offer. Who else is going to want a woman with baggage like that?”

“A baby isn’t baggage, you asshole!” I shut my eyes, literally gasping dramatically at myself. Did I seriously just blurt that out because he goaded me? “I mean—hypothetically.” I tack on lamely, knowing it’s far, far too late for it.

Decay drops his voice. His expression changes from edgy to something that borders on concern. “Have you told your family?”

“They knew about Grave.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes at my obtuseness. “I doubt they approved.”

“My sister didn’t want me to date a biker at first, but then she realized how hypocritical that sounded. She’s loved Dominic for a decade, despite all the stuff he’s gone through.”

“You were lonely and horny, and my brother scratched an itch.”

“That’s crude.”

“It’s sort of my trademark, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Really? I thought that your trademark was being a total asshole with an entirely stunted sense of emotional intelligence.” He’s working me up and I’m letting him because somehow that’s going to save me.

Spoiler alert—it isn’t. I need to stop. There’s no excuse to be mean to someone, ever, but especially not this person, and not right now.

“I prefer Cunty McCuntington, actually,” he shoots back, not the least bit riled. “And I think some would say everything about me is underdeveloped. It’s a problem in the gray matter.” He taps his head by his temple.

Grave had that same dark, dry sense of humor.

Not that some people would term it that, but I learned how to appreciate it.

That’s not what Decay is doing now. He’s hurting himself, using his words like a weapon to cut through my defenses.

Or maybe he’s just hurting and he’s had enough.

Either way, I need to end this and get back inside.

I twist my hands in the fabric of my dress. “I don’t need anything from you, Decay.”

Something wild flashes in his eyes, a freak storm rolling in over us, the energy gathering until it breaks in one loud clap.

“Don’t call me that.” He raises a hand and drops it back to his side when he notices me flinch.

Despite his massive size and his crude manner, his sometimes terrible sense of humor, I know he’d never hurt anyone. His brother was exactly the same.

There was something good buried beneath that mountain he liked to shield himself with.

“Please, don’t call me that,” he grunts, but his voice is dangerously soft.

“It’s the only name I know.”

“My brother was Jack.”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “He told me that people used to call him Jerk Off Jack in school for good reason. At least they did, until you left in grade nine.”

“My brother was an idiot sometimes. He didn’t know what to keep his mouth shut about.” He doesn’t look mad despite his harsh words. His tone still borders on tenderness.

“He didn’t tell me anything else, and when he let that slip, it was in the heat of the moment.”

“So balls deep and drunk?”

It’s my turn to cross my arms and roll my eyes. I put on a hard front, betraying nothing. He wants to get under my skin again, but that’s not going to happen. “I think we’re done here.”

“Jack had some money saved. We had wills done up and left everything to each other.”

“Not the club?”

“The club makes its own money. We work to be a part of that, but we also had jobs, believe it or not.”

“I know he was a mechanic. He told me it was the only thing he was ever good at. He said that he couldn’t make numbers or anything else work for shit in school, but get him working on an engine and it all made sense.”

“Fuck, he really did tell you everything.”

“He didn’t tell me your real name.” Knowing that is an intimacy I don’t want. I shouldn’t have asked. I wish I could take it back.

“I don’t want to think about anyone decaying, let alone the person I shared a womb with.

Do you know what it’s like? To be completely alone in the world?

” If I didn’t somewhat know this man, I’d swear that his eyes are misty, but it has to be the streetlights shining around the compound at the side of the clubhouse, or the security lights illuminating the asphalt parking lot to my left, mounted on the building itself.

“I told him. I fucking told him not to drive that stupid fucking truck…”

Whether I want this moment to be emotionally charged or not, it is.

Jack rarely let down his guard. In all the months I knew him, I maybe saw a few seconds of real feeling aside from physical passion.

The way this man lets down his guard in front of me is unmistakable.

He seems to collapse into himself, like a black hole just opened up in the middle of his chest.

Decay catches himself, but that raw and wounded vulnerability hits me hard.

It’s heartrending.“You have the club,” I point out awkwardly.

I don’t know what else to do. I can’t step forward and comfort him.

Even if he hadn’t come out here and put me on the defensive, that just isn’t something that a man like him would ever want.

“I know.” He shrugs. “But even that’s not the same without him. You wouldn’t understand, not being a twin.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my brother or sister. I don’t know the twin thing, but I do understand a little. Does that count for anything?”

“Do you want it to?”

I don’t. I can’t. Even if I wanted to be nice, I just can’t afford it right now.

I sigh and do what I should have done when he first walked out. I flip him off and try to stalk past him. I make it two feet before his words stop me in my tracks.

“It’s Zeppelin.”