All That Matters (41 page)

Jennifer Clark looked around the clubhouse as if she expected to catch some disease just from being in the room. “Can we speak privately, please?”

Meg led her into the kitchen. At the sight of the two of them, the women gathered there turned and stared until Jillian cleared her throat. “Alright, out. Everyone.” She shot Meg a smile and followed the women out.

“Go ahead.” Meg would have rather she not speak at all, that she not be at the clubhouse at all, but that apparently hadn't been an option. “This is as private as it's going to get.”

“This is fine,” Jennifer Clark pulled around. “I'm going to speak plainly, Meg. You're in the crosshairs of a gang war. The whole guy getting murdered in your back yard and you living here thing is not helping me prove that you deserve the boys back. First thing this morning, I got a call from the attorney for the boys' mother. He knew all about this. I think that it's time to cut bait.”

“Cut bait?” Meg knew what the lawyer meant, but she had to repeat it. The urge to do the woman physical violence was strong. “You want me to give up?”

“I know that it's not what you want to hear, but honestly, there's no way short of a miracle that you're getting them back. The Lewises have money, stability. You've got chaos. If you decide to continue, you'll need to get a new attorney.”

“I see.” Meg cleared her throat. “You could have told me all of this over the phone, saved your time and discomfort. You should go now. I'll walk you out.” To her credit, the lawyer didn't say another word as they walked to the door.

Meg thought about the people in the clubhouse. Everything was so tense, they were all so close to the edge that any additional ripple would make them fall. For right now, it was best that no one know that the custody battle was over, not even Train. She scanned the crowd as she walked back inside. Kay, Bones' old lady, and their two girls were at one of the tables eating breakfast. Maggie, Sandra and all their kids sat at another. Caroline and Jillian were by the stairs. They both tried to catch her eye. Meg wasn't ready for conversation, so she kept going to where the breakfast remains were set out.

The guys were upstairs. They were always upstairs. Train hadn't said much about the meetings, which wasn't entirely unusual. Most of the time, Meg was fine with being out of the loop, but the more time that passed, the more she wanted to know what the plan was for Gagliardi. Hopefully his death would give them what they needed to finally mourn Danny.

Meg considered joining everyone at the tables, but the truth was that being around the kids made her sad in a way that she didn't have words for, especially Javi. Even though he didn't look anything like Leo, he made her think of him. If what the lawyer said was true and she had no chance in hell of getting him back, she could do without the memories.

She was just about to head upstairs when the front door opened. The chatter in the room fell to silence at the sight of Amelia standing there. “Where are they?” Amelia asked with no preamble.

Meg hadn't even known that she was being released from the hospital. Apparently neither did Maggie, who rose to her feet with a frown. “Before anyone asks, I signed out against medical advice,” Amelia replied. “I'm surprised that no one called you. Are they upstairs?”

“They're in a meeting. You can't go up. Maybe you want to sit down. You look a little pale,” Meg suggested. “Do you want some water or something?”

“No. I don't want any fucking water. I don't want to sit. And I am going up those stairs, so I suggest that you stop blocking my path. I just watched them put my husband in a cardboard box before they took him to be cremated. I am seriously pregnant and seriously not in the mood!” Amelia looked around at all of them. “I need answers and I need them now, so I'm going upstairs.”

The footsteps behind Meg told her that Amelia wouldn't have to go upstairs and that her voice had carried. She was glad it had. She moved to the side as they all came down the stairs. Buster spoke first. “You're supposed to be under observation, resting.”

“Resting? Resting? You think that I'm going to rest when the son of a bitch responsible for Danny being dead is still breathing? Speaking of which, does someone want to tell me why?”

“He won't be alive for much longer. You have my word on that.”

“I don't want your word, Buster. I want Danny, but I can't have him back. So I want blood.”

“Remember the children,” Buster motioned to where they sat. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation upstairs, where you can get off your feet.”

“I don't want to go upstairs. I don't want to stay here. I'm going home.” She held up her hand to stop any protest. “You can send someone with me, to watch me, but I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“That is not going to happen; we both know it. It's too much of a risk, one that Danny would never let you take. You'll stay here with the rest of us until this is over. There's no way around it.”

“I just want to sleep in our bed, Buster. In our sheets.” Amelia's eyes filled with tears. “I just want him back. I want him back.” Meg watched without words as Buster moved over to hold Amelia and then lead her up the stairs.

Meg turned away and straight into Train. “Hey.”

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I'm good. The lawyer came by, though. She's in a tizzy about what happened at the house.”

“I didn't figure this was going to make it easier,” he sighed. “I'm sorry, Meg.”

“Don't be sorry. She'll get over it.” She stretched up so she could press her lips to his. She didn't want to talk anymore, so that she wouldn't have to tell him another lie. He deepened the kiss, slid his hands down to her ass.

Meg pulled back with regret. “Remember the kids.”

He released her ass with a sigh. “I think that we need to go upstairs. You look like you could use some rest.” Somehow, he managed to make the innocent statement sound exceptionally dirty. A thrill rolled through her.

“I am feeling a little bit sleepy. Are you sure we should?” Meg glanced over to where everyone was still sitting.

“You worry too damn much about what people think.” He grabbed her hand. “Let's go.”

Meg could hear the low rumble of Buster's voice when they shut the door to the room. Amelia must have been right next door. Train must have seen the expression on her face, because he went right to the small television on the dresser. He turned it on, loud, and grinned.

Any protest had died when he touched her. There was something about his hands on her, in any way, that made something inside of her feel warm and fuzzy. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that could only be described as demanding. “I want you, now.”

Meg nodded, and then his hands were all over her. He undressed her quickly, his hands nearly rough. Soon she had on nothing but her skin; her clothes were in a pile on the floor, but he was still fully dressed. She reached out to undo his belt, but he stilled her hands and shook his head. Before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers again.

“Get on the bed, on your knees.”

The request let Meg know exactly what sort of mood he was in. She moved to the bed, did as he asked and wasn't surprised when he pushed her forward. She was surprised when he grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back with one hand. She heard him undo his belt and slide down his zipper. His fingers moved between her legs, working her to make sure that she was ready. Meg braced herself; when Train was in this particular mood, he was rough. He didn't try to hurt her, but sometimes the line between the pleasure and pain would blur so much that Meg wasn't sure she could take the sheer intensity of it.

He slid inside of her without warning, filling her, stretching her so that she couldn't hold back the cry that tore from her throat. She heard him grunt, and he gripped her hips tighter. He began to thrust intensely, hard and fast. Meg moved with him as best she could with the way he held her. She let the sensations wash over her, drown out anything else but the two of them in that moment.

Train's free hand gripped her hair, tugged her head back, and it was enough to have her body start to shake. She was close, so close. Everything was out of her control, she didn't recognize the sounds that were coming out of her mouth or the rough grunt Train made each time he slammed home. “Come on. Come on.”

Meg wasn't sure of the reason for his urgency, but she shut her eyes and willed herself to let go. She felt the moment slip between her fingers yet she still cried out as if she'd claimed the pleasure for her own. Train's movements became quicker. He came with a roar that was like nothing she'd ever heard before.

He pulled out of her almost immediately. Meg heard him adjust his zipper and belt. She rolled over onto her back, rubbed her hands over her wrists. “I had you too tight, didn't I?” Worry darkened his features. “Fuck. I'm sorry. You should have said something.”

“Did you hear me complain?” Meg continued to massage her wrists and kept her voice light. It didn't matter if her hands were a little numb. “I clearly recall enjoying myself immensely.”

“Give me those.” He sat on the bed next to her, began to rub her wrists. “I guess I got carried away.”

“I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment.” Meg told him. She was as content as she could be, to be alone with him. It didn't matter what was going on downstairs or what was around the corner when they were together.

“It is. It always is,” Train's voice was as gentle as his touch. It was a complete contrast to the way he'd been just moments before. “You really in the mood for a nap now, or do you want to go back down?”

“I was heading back up here anyway.”

“I noticed that you haven't been part of the cackling hens. What's up with that? Only person around less is Kay, and she pretty much hates us.” He was telling the truth about Kay. She didn't even bother to mask her contempt for them and the life that her husband had chosen.

“It's the kids,” Meg nearly lied but decided she'd used up all her lies for the day. “They make me think about the boys. We're all sad enough, no one needs me moping around, so I just keep myself busy. I help Caroline or I read. I was surprised that there were so many books here.”

“You know I leave them all over the place. Don't try to change the subject, either.” Train continued to rub her wrists. “I'm sorry that it makes you sad. We'll be able to go home soon.”

“Soon?” Meg had suspected that things were going to come to a head with Buster's words earlier, but to hear Train say it made it more real. Her heart began to beat harder, worry crept cold fingers up her spine.

“This will be our last night here, Meg. Tomorrow, we'll be in our own bed.”

“You're going after him tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we are. Once everything is said and done, I'll tell you everything. Right now, I just need you to trust me.”

“I do,” Meg replied.

“Good.” He released her wrists, shifted to grab her clothes off of the floor for her. “Get dressed. We're going to go down and see what treats Caroline made today, maybe play some cards or something. You won't be sad, you'll be having too much fun. And then we'll come back up here and maybe get some sleep.”

<#<#<#<#

Meg mixed more butter into the mashed potatoes. If they kept eating like this, they were all going to need gym memberships or something. There was also meatloaf, macaroni and cheese and assorted vegetables, which would be ignored by most of the guys.

“Are there any more napkins?” Jillian stuck her head into the kitchen.

“In the store room,” Caroline replied. “Ask Kay to get them, you've got your hands full trying to get the buffet table set up.”

Jillian snorted in response. “Yeah, right. She hasn't done anything but stare at her phone and tell her kids not to move or talk to anyone. I'll get them myself.”

“I've got a feeling that Kay is going to end up being a problem,” Caroline sighed.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Meg agreed. “She'll be happier when this is all over and she can go home.”