Biker Born: The Lost Souls MC Series (The Lost Souls Series Book 4) (15 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MICHAEL

It’s the first time in days I have been able to relax and lay in bed with my girl without having to think about who I need to talk to, who I need to see or planning who I need to fuck up.

Kitty’s long, red nails travel over my nipple and down and across my stomach as she cuddles into my chest. I allow her the softer moments after having sex even though all I want is to roll over and go back to sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll never complain about Kitty waking me up with my cock in her mouth, but last night is the first night in a long time I found more than two hours sleep. 

“Can you pass me my smokes out my pocket, babe.”

Her soft groan enlightens me and her rolling over to the other side of the bed and the sheet slipping down around her bare hip arouses me further.

“What’s this?” she asks, “Were you going to tell me you had this?” she adds.

My easy going mood hits a brick wall at the sound of her tone. She’s holding my latest pay, five grand.

“Why would I need to tell you? And can you please pass me my fuckin’ smokes?”

She leans back over and throws me my cigarettes, followed by the lighter which narrowly misses my head and hits the wall above me.

“You say we can’t get married yet because we don’t have the money, but this looks more than enough to me,” she huffs.

“It’s not enough to me.”

“What the hell, Michael? Do you want to marry me or did you only propose to keep me quiet?” she spits.

I’d like anything to make her quiet now. She clambers off the bed and slips back into her panties.

“Babe, the money is for our own place. I want a house before we get wed and to do that I need to accumulate some cash. So if I don’t tell you everything it’s for a good fuckin’ reason, stop tryin’ to pick a fuckin’ fight with me.”

Her lack of trust is beginning to wear thin.

She stops getting dressed and stares at me, “I’m not trying to pick a fight, it’s just sometimes you say things and it’s like you forget,” she says, more calmly.

I can’t help laughing.

“How the fuck can I forget when I’ve got you banging on all the time?” I manage to say through the laughter.

“I do not bang on all the time,” she screeches.

“Pretty sure this you still banging on.”

Lighting up a cigarette, I inhale deeply and get comfortable for the fight to get loud and maybe, dodge the lamp sitting next to her. My girl does like to throw shit at me when she’s angry.

“You’re unbearable, Michael. Why couldn’t you have picked up someone else all those years ago? I could be married now, have a couple of kids running around. I could have a man who doesn’t hide things from me, a man who wants to share his life with me in all aspects.”

Stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray on the bedside table I climb out of bed to get dressed. I’ve had enough of this shit.

“Look woman, that engagement ring on your finger means as much to me as it does you. I wouldn’t have put it on you if I didn’t mean to marry ya. Now cut the bullshit, we’ll get married and we’ll have a house and the world will be one big happy fuckin’ place.”

Sometimes my stern voice will bring her down and she’ll back off, but sometimes, like now, she breaks down and cries. Flopping onto the end of the bed, she leans on her knees and hides her face in her hands. Fastening my belt buckle I kneel in front of her and prize her hands away.

I go for the soft as I can be approach.

“I don’t know how else to show you that I love you. I’m going to marry you. I’ve never asked anyone to marry me. Do you think I take this lightly? I’ve been saving so we can get our own home. I’ve never lived with another woman so that makes you the only one. Everything I do is for you, whether I tell you about it or not, it’s all for you, for us. You need to see that ‘cause I can’t deal with this shit anymore. You either pull it together or we’re done.”

My face and tone is deadly serious but deep down I’ll never let her go. I just need her to sort herself out for the sake of a happy, quiet life. I have more than enough aggravation in the club, I don’t need it behind closed doors while I’m with my woman too.

Her watery eyes search mine, searching for my truths.

“I love you too, Michael. I know I get crazy but that’s how you make me feel,” she hiccups.

“Yeah, you make me crazy too, babe,” I tell her, stroking along her cheekbone.

“Get cleaned up, I’m going to go down to the bar.”

I lean in and kiss her softly, she may not be the woman I had hoped to marry, but she is the woman I’m going to marry and that means everything to me. That’s why these arguments drive me crazy. I tell her all the time that I love her and not only tell her, but I show her too. I show her affection in public. I’ve never struck her or gone behind her back with another woman. I’m many things but this woman sitting in tears before me has me at her feet each and every day and I’m struggling to get it through to her.

Opening the drawer, I reach for a clean tee and slip into my cut. Grabbing my keys and smoke, I quickly kiss Kitty again and leave her to get dressed. Midday around the clubhouse is normally quiet, not today. Raised voices hit me as I make my way down the stairs and round the corner to the bar. I’d hurry my step but the second voice I can hear belongs to Oak’s old lady and she is one little spitfire. I have my own spitfire to contend with, I don’t need to put myself in business that I don’t need to. I sit at the other end of the bar to the arguing couple and the prospect slides me a bottle of beer.

“John Johnson, do you plan on coming home today? I’m sick of having to drag my ass up here just to see you,” Shellie yells at a disinterested Oak.

“I told you I’d be home at some point today, today isn’t done yet. Go home, Shellie and I’ll deal with you later. You’re making a scene,” Oak growls.

Oak rented a place in town for the two of them a couple of years back and he has regretted it since. Before, Shellie stayed with him here and they hardly ever argued, having the house in town, she notices his absence more and she isn’t afraid to voice her opinion on it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I embarrassing you?” she spits, sarcastically, “If you were home more I wouldn’t have to make a scene in front of your precious club,” she continues to argue.

Oak scoots off of his stool and towers over her, she doesn’t move a muscle.

“Watch what you say next, Pen,” he warns.

“Or what?” she retorts.

The muscle in his jaw ticks furiously as the anger simmers.

“Go home, I’ll meet you there soon,” he forces out through grated teeth.

“Will you? Will you actually leave here just to come home and argue with me?”

I’m shocked he hasn’t frog marched her out of here yet, although he does look close.

“Go home,” he yells, so loud I actually jump along with Shellie.

Tears spill from her eyes in heavy droplets and she backs away.

“Screw you, Oak. How long do you think I’m going to stick around and put up with this?” she cries, before walking out the bar.

I knock back my beer in one and head out myself. Oak remains at the bar and orders another whiskey. Hormones, I can’t stand them.

I head to the one place there won’t be no volatile women and thank the heavens when I find my brother on his own working on his bike.

“Hey man,”

He looks up and sets down his tools.

“What’s up? You look stressed.”

I sit down on one of the crates and light up a cigarette. The nicotine shoots straight to my brain and I’m finally able to start relaxing once again.

“Everywhere I go there are crazy fuckin’ women, I can’t get no peace from them,” I moan, bringing the cigarette to my mouth.

Another deep inhale and I relax even more.

“It must be the heat,” he laughs.

“Whatever it is, it can fuck off. How’s Ray doing?”

He sighs heavily and grabs the dirt rag from the work bench.

“She’s tired and feeling the size of a whale so basically, she isn’t doing well.”

And by the look of my brother, he isn’t either.

“When she’s had the baby she’ll be back to her normal self,” I assure him.

Out of everyone Rayna is consistent in her moods when she isn’t pregnant, unlike every other woman around here. When she’s pissed, she goes quiet and deals with what is bothering her and moves on. Others here like to scream and screech until their faces turn red and their lungs run out of oxygen.

“I can’t wait, brother. It doesn’t matter what she does, she can’t get comfortable.”

“I suppose that’s pregnancy for you, are you still keen for a large family?” I chuckle.

“Definitely not, I’m hanging on by a thread waiting on this kid, I can’t go through it again in the future, I doubt Rayna will want to either,” he snorts.

“Good luck with that, big bro.”

“Mark! Rayna needs you, she’s yelling for you, now” Flo shouts, urgently from the doorway of the main house.

Both Mark and I run towards the house and Flo backs into the hall to allow us to pass.

“She’s in the bathroom, she’s been in there a while,” she tells us as we make our way up the stairs.

My heart double skips with every steps I take. Heaven help me if she’s hurt.

MARK

I don’t hear any yelling as I get to the top landing and barrel in front of the bathroom door.

“Ray, you okay?” I yell loud enough for her to hear me.

“Mark? Is that you?” I hear.

“Yeah babe, open the door for me,” I ask, jangling the door knob to find it locked.

“I can’t, that’s why I was yelling for you. I can’t get my fat ass out of the tub.”

I can’t help but let the short burst of laughter out. I had all sorts going through my mind and she’s only stuck in the bath tub.

“It’s okay, I’ve got this,” I tell Michael and wait for him to go downstairs.

“Babe, I’m going to kick the door in, okay?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

The old wooden door flies wide open with only one hard kick and Rayna is where she said she was.

“Hey, you gonna lie in that tub all day?” I chuckle, making her glare at me.

“Very funny, Mark. Are you going to help me or not?”

She thinks and feels like she is huge but when I lift her out and help her stand she weighs hardly any more than she did before I knocked her up.

She skips the towel and dresses straight into her robe.

“I’m fed up, I can’t even take a bath now without my ass getting wedged in the tub.”

“It wasn’t wedged,” I argue, “Come on, come lay with me for a while.”

I hold her hand and lead her through to our bedroom. I pull back the covers and slip out of my boots.

“Mark, it hurts to lay on my back and when I lay on my side, my knees rub together and feels disgusting.”

Searching the room, I see what she needs and grab extra pillows from the foot of the bed.

“Here, lie down and put these between your knees.”

She does as I say and I lie behind her and pull her close to me. Swiping her hair out of my face, I stroke the soft blonde curls until my arm aches.

“When this baby is born, the first thing I want to do is sleep on my front. God, you don’t realize how much you miss it when you can’t do it.”

“Do you want to know the first thing I’m going to do when he is here?”

“You mean she? And what?”

“I’m going to throw the biggest party this club has ever seen.”

“That’ll be nice, especially when I won’t have to go to the bathroom every five minutes,” she laughs lightly.

Moving my hand down to her stomach, I slip between her robe and rest my hand softly on her bump.

Little kicks hit my palm and it is a feeling out of this world.

“He feels strong,” I whisper, still fascinated by this little human inside her.

“Just like his daddy.”

Daddy. It feels strange knowing that in a few weeks that is what I’m going to be…a father.

“I’m going to be a good dad, just like mine was,” I say, thinking back to when he was alive.

“If he was a good father why don’t you talk about him? Tell me about him.”

I smile into her hair and remember a time I don’t mind sharing. It isn’t that I don’t like talking about him because terrible shit happened, it’s because every memory I have is good.

“He was kind and patient, he was always busy with work but he always made time for us. Even when he was late for work and rushing out of the door, he would still stop to answer our questions and he loved my mom, man, he adored her. Whatever she wanted from him, she got without a second thought. He was the ultimate family man. Even when Michael got into trouble at school, he stuck by him every time.

He was into his model aircrafts and him and Michael would always sit fiddling with them on the weekends. Michael would get frustrated easily but my dad would talk him around and cool him down. I guess I tried to take his role after they died.”