All That Matters (35 page)

“I just got a call from Gagliardi. You know that things have been tense with us since the Info thing isn't resolved.”

“Tense is a kind word for it,” Train replied. “I'm surprised he hasn't tried to come after us yet.”

“It's a delicate balance. Right now, we don't need a war with him. He's got connections. You understand that, right?”

“Right.” Train didn't like where this conversation was going at all. “Just spit it out, Buster. I don't need all this verbal foreplay.”

“Word got back to him that you're looking for Carlos. He'd take it as a kindness if you stopped looking. If you keep looking, he's going to take it as a slap to the face.”

Train took a deep, calming breath. “You know who Carlos is, right? You know what he did to Meg? Hell, I know you saw what he did to her. How long have you known me, Buster? Do you really think that I'm just going to let that go?”

“Carlos is Gagliardi's son, born to his Cuban mistress during his younger, hopefully thinner, days.”

“What are you saying, Buster? Are you here to tell me to back off? To order me to back off?”

“I'm here to talk to you,” he insisted. “I know what Carlos did to Meg, what he let others do, and for that, I think that he should pay for it. I just don't think that price should be his life, not when there's so much at stake.”

“Fuck Gagliardi, he's a fat sloppy son of a bitch. Are you scared of him?” Train realized that he knew the answer to that question before he asked it. Buster was scared of Gagliardi, or more accurately the connections he had in the East because his brother was some big shot hitter.

“I'm not scared of him, the man, I'm cautious because of the connections that he has. And this is me, asking you man to man to stand down. I don't want to take it to the table if I don't have to.”

“The guys who hurt Jillian, they're dead. The one who took Caroline and hurt her, he's dead too. But I'm supposed to go upstairs and look my old lady in the eyes and tell her that the fucker who hurt her is just free to keep on doing it to other women?” Train fought to keep his voice in an indoor-friendly tone.

“Train...”

“No. Fuck that. That bastard made money off of her, is probably still making money off of her. I am not alright with him still breathing. No. Fuck that. You wouldn't be saying what you're saying right now if it happened to Caroline. You'd be cutting his head off and sticking it on a pole.”

“If I take this to the table, you'll abide by the vote?”

“Take it to the table, tonight! Before we party, we vote on it. If you get a majority, I'll abide by it, but I don't think you're going to get it. Someone does something like that to one of ours, they get what they deserve in return.”

“Tonight is supposed to be about you and Meg. You marking her,” Buster pointed out.

“That's what makes it fitting that we vote tonight. I'm not capable of being polite much longer, so I think that you need to leave. Tell Meg that I'll be up in a few minutes.” Train turned back to the heavy bag, unloading his anger until long after he heard the basement door shut behind Buster.

<#<#<#<#

Train heard everything through a dull ringing in his ears. When Buster had brought the issue to the table, he'd been so sure that it was going to get voted down. Who among them would deny him the right to go after the son of a bitch who had hurt his old lady? Apparently, most of them would. The vote passed by a wide margin; only Monroe and Ace had voted with him. The rest had gone the other way, no doubt lured by promises of peace and profit.

“Train.” Buster's voice broke through the fog. “I know that this didn't go the way that you wanted, but it is what's best for Nightshade. Do you understand that?”

“I understand how the vote works. It's settled. Done. If there's no other business, I've got some pretty important plans for tonight.” Train hoped he sounded casual. He didn't want anyone to realize what he was really feeling, completely fucking betrayed by the people who were supposed to be his family and always have his back.

“If you go against the vote, there will be consequences.” It was Danny who spoke. “Those are the rules.”

“I'm well aware of the rules,” Train snarled. “Who made you fucking hall monitor?” He bit his tongue and didn't add that he'd been wearing his leather back when Danny was still a snot-nosed little shit hanging around hoping for a free meal because his junkie mother hadn't bothered to feed him, because that truth would just send them into an all-out battle.

“He knows the consequences, Danny. Every man around this table knows.” Buster looked around the room. “I don't think that we need to dwell on this anymore, tonight is supposed to be about Train and Meg making it official.”

Everyone made some noise for that, banged their hands against the tables. “Never thought I'd see the day,” Ace called out. “You're a lucky, though, she's great. And she's obviously crazy, since she's decided she wants to put up with you, so she'll fit right in with the rest of us.”

“On that note, we're done here,” Buster declared.

Train was the first out of his chair, out the door and down the stairs. He needed some air, even if his abrupt exit would make tongues wag. Fuck it, people were going to talk anyway. It was what they did best. A bunch of bad-ass bikers who shared gossip like school girls.

It was snowing outside, again. Fuck the snow and the coming holidays; he could just imagine the toll that they were going to take on Meg. Meg. He'd promised her that Carlos would die, but he wouldn't. Train wouldn't kill him. He couldn't even touch him. He'd promised her that they'd get the boys back, but that wasn't happening either. What kind of old man did that make him. Train heard the front door shut behind him. “What?” He turned, ready to take off the head of whoever was there, but he couldn't; it was Meg. She'd put on her jacket but hadn't bothered to zip it. “You're going to freeze.”

“I'm good. Cold is good. What are you doing out here?” She looked up at him with a frown.

Train dodged the question. “What do you mean cold is good? Do you have a migraine?” He walked over to her and zipped up her jacket. “You're going to catch pneumonia or some shit.”

“No. I'm good. What's going on?”

“Nothing, I just needed some air. I'm good. Come on, let's go back inside.”

“Are you having second thoughts about tonight?” Meg stepped back as he tried to steer her towards the door. “Is that why you stormed out here?” Her expression had gone from curious to worried. “Because if you changed your mind, that's...”

“No. It's not that. It's not you. It's never you.” Train moved to her and cupped her face with his hands. “Are you having seconds thoughts?”

“Only about being in a tank top in front of everyone,” she said in a joking tone.

Train knew that she wasn't joking. No matter how many times he told her how perfectly sexy she was, the insecurities always came bouncing back. “Stop that, you're beautiful.” He leaned in, pressed his lips to her forehead. “You ready?”

“I'm ready. You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?” Her face was serious.

Train knew that she meant Nightshade business; he'd mentioned a few things to her so far. He did feel better when he talked to her. He couldn't talk to her about this. She wouldn't take it well. “It's nothing, Meg. Danny just pissed me off. I'm over it.”

“You're a dirty liar.” She smiled as she said it. “I love you anyway. Let's go inside and get this done if you're not having second thoughts. Really, I just want to see the design.”

Train knew that she did. She'd been hinting at it. He'd kept it to himself, well, to himself and his welder friend who owed him a favor. He'd originally planned to use his ring, but the more he'd thought about it, the less right it seemed. “You're going to see it every day for the rest of your life soon enough. If you hate it, we're kind of screwed.”

“I'll love it because it's what you chose.” Her eyes clouded with worry. “I'm with you, all the way.”

“I know that, silly.” Train rested his forehead against hers. “I love you.” And he did, even as he failed her by not going after Carlos, he loved her.

<#<#<#<#

“It's going to hurt like a bitch if you keep trying to touch it,” Train observed as Meg lifted up her bandage to prod at his mark once again. She'd been a trooper getting it done; he'd nearly wavered at the idea of having to cause her any pain.

“I just want to see it,” she pouted.

“Look with your eyes, not your hands. If you keep poking at it, it'll get infected.”

“Okay, fine,” she huffed and threw herself back against the seat. “You know, I thought that it was going to be worse than it was. I think I was too worried about everyone staring at me.”

“They weren't staring. They were watching.” Train pulled the truck in front of the house.

“You sure that you didn't want to stay longer? The party was still pretty impressive when we left.” Meg opened the door and nearly fell out of the truck. “Shit, I'm drunk.”

Train had figured that out already. “Just stay right where you are, drunkie. I'll come around and get you.”

“I can walk. I'm not that drunk.” Her protests would have convinced him more if she hadn't tripped when she actually managed to get out of the truck. Train came around the side of the car, grabbed her and steadied her. “I'm not that drunk.”

“No, you're drunker.” Train figured it was a good thing because she wasn't feeling any pain, and she also wasn't so far gone that the night was going to end with her praying to the porcelain god. They'd had nights like that before.

“Not so drunk that you can't take me inside and fuck me senseless.” She looked up at him.

“You sure about that?” There was a time that he wouldn't have asked, but since the videos, he was more careful with her.

“I'm sure I'm not that drunk. I'm starting to wonder if you're capable of fucking me senseless, though. Maybe I should just go to sleep instead,” she said with a smirk.

“No way in hell.” Train helped her up the stairs, opened the front door. “I've got a security system guy coming on Monday to start the install on the alarm.” He let her go long enough to lock the door. “I'll try to be here but if not, he's cool.”

“See, I'm talking about fucking me senseless, and you're talking about alarm systems,” Meg sighed. “Do you not want to fuck me senseless? Is it because of what you saw me do in the videos? Because I don't even remember what was in those videos! I've seen parts, but that's not the point. The point is, do you not want to fuck me senseless?”

“Jesus, why would you even say that?” It pissed Train off that she was even mentioning the videos.

“Because you've been handling me with kid gloves lately, that's why I'd say that. And don't say you haven't been.” She'd gone from horny and drunk to drunk and pissed. It wasn't a good combination, and Train knew it. He also knew that she wasn't wrong. He'd been extra careful with her lately. “Well, say something!”

“So, I shouldn't be careful with you?” Train realized he was nearly shouting and lowered his voice. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do, because Meg let out a sound very much like a growl. “What?”

“There you are doing it again!” She stomped her foot against the floor for emphasis. “I'm still the same person that I was before you saw that fucking video, Train.”

“I know that,” Train replied. “And I've always been careful with you, Meg. Always. So don't throw me being careful with you now in my face.”

“You were never careful with me in bed, or against the wall or anywhere. Never!”

“You've been beat to hell, Meg. You've got bruised ribs and everything else. Should I be picking you up and tossing you around?” He reached out, poked his finger against her ribs and she hissed. “Are you letting your head make you crazy again?”

The glare that she gave him in response was all the answer he needed. Train waited while she fell silent. Finally, she sighed. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “I might have thought that you weren't attracted to me in the same way before because of those movies, because of what you saw me do. I know that there were things you wanted to try that I said no to and that you probably saw me do them, so that must suck. Maybe you felt like...”