Dealing with the Devil (3 page)

Lucy’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to fight him but she was too flabbergasted to make a viable argument. There had to be
some
reason she could come up with as to why they couldn’t get married, but damn if she could think of one in that moment. By the time Lucy regained her bearings, Gabriel was already heading out into the storm with her only source of light in hand. She hurried after him. “Hey! That’s mine!” It was a stupid thing to say. In the scheme of things, he was taking a lot more from her than a flashlight…

“I promise you’ll get it back tomorrow. I’ll return it when I pick you up for the wedding. Make sure you pack enough clothes, sweetheart, because we’re going on an
extended
honeymoon.” Another flash of lightning illuminated Lucy’s form in the doorway and despite everything, Archie smiled. This was the absolute worst idea ever. Marrying Lucy Harding would make spending time with her unavoidable. Archie wanted to push her away; it was easier to deny his feelings that way. But if playing pretend for a week or two could save the MC and the town of Errol from the Black Jacks, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Lucy stood in the doorway for a long time after Gabriel drove away. The wind and rain whipped around her, chilling her to the bone. Lucy was feeling uneasy. What she wanted was to be part of the Devil’s Own MC and to pave the way for other women to do the same. In the course of one day, Lucy had been hollered at, groped, and was being forced into marriage. Lucy drew in a ragged breath as she stared into the storm. “What the
hell
just happened?”

The murky light of dawn found Lucy standing in front of the full-length mirror, wondering what she’d gotten herself into…

The dog days of summer were definitely upon them and last night’s storm offered only temporary relief from the heat. Lucy had lain awake for hours, listening to the rumbling thunder and watching the lightning illuminate the night. Sometime around midnight the storm had cleared, leaving in its wake a fathomless stretch of inky black sky dotted with millions of stars. Lucy might have enjoyed the beauty of the moment a little more if she weren’t so preoccupied.

At some point, exhaustion won Lucy over and she fell into a fitful sleep. She tossed and turned; her mind spun with the uncertainty she felt about marrying Gabe and going up against the Black Jacks. The nightmares turned her stomach, the knife dug in deeper until Lucy gripped the sheets in terror. It was almost a relief when Danny stumbled home at four and started her awake. In a futile attempt to get himself some aspirin, Danny knocked everything out of the bathroom cabinet in what Lucy could only assume was an attempt to raise the dead. She made it into the hallway just in time to keep him from landing face first on the carpet.

Once Danny was safely tucked in, Lucy decided there was no use delaying the inevitable. After putting the medicine cabinet back together, she stripped off her pajamas and stepped into the shower. Lucy basked in the blissfully scalding spray until the all the hot water was gone. By the time she got out, a dull, throbbing headache was starting at the base of her skull. Lucy needed a caffeine fix pronto. Pulling her robe closed, she padded into the kitchen.

Lucy went through the motions of making coffee on autopilot. It wasn’t until she poured herself a cup of the heady brew that life began to infuse into her once more. She wrapped her hands around the mug and inhaled deeply, sighing at the comforting scent of her morning Joe. Her rapture didn’t last long, though. Now that she was thinking clearly again, she had to decide what to pack on a trip to hell.

Essential items were put in the suitcase first: handgun, mace, butterfly knife, deodorant, toothbrush, underwear, and the family picture taken three months before her parent died. With those items lovingly packed, Lucy dumped the rest of her clothes into the suitcase without fanfare.

At seventeen years old, Lucy lost her mother and the only female influence in her life. Louisa Harding was dainty and glamorous; her greatest joy was dressing her daughter up like a little princess. After she died, there was no one there to needle Lucy into wearing pretty dresses or to tell her when to wear pantyhose. Anything with ruffles, lace, or frills only served to remind Lucy how out of her element she was. Since then, she stuck to the basics: jeans, t-shirts, and baggy sweatshirts. Lucy owned exactly one skirt and it remained crumpled in the back of her closet until today.

Unfortunately, the lack of dressy clothes left Lucy feeling uncomfortable. She sat on the edge of her bed contemplating whether or not she was really going to wear jeans to her own wedding. If Louisa Harding could only hear Lucy now, she’d surely roll over in her grave.

Running a hand through her damp curls, Lucy gathered her courage. She tiptoed down the hall to the room her parents once shared and paused for a moment in the doorway. She took a cleansing breath and pushed the door open. The air was musty and a thick layer of dust coated everything. Neither she nor Danny liked going into this room; it dredged up too many memories. Hell, Lucy hadn’t even changed the sheets on the bed. The floral ones peeking out from beneath the down comforter were the same ones her parents had snuggled beneath the night before they died. A pang of hurt hit Lucy in the chest. She forced herself to open the closet door. The lavender scent of her mother’s perfume still lingered there, although it was so faint now, Lucy was sure she imagined it.

Thumbing through the clothing that hung neatly on hangars, it felt as if Louisa would walk in at any moment, smile knowingly, and pick out a fabulous outfit for her daughter to try on. Sadly, that was not the case. Lucy located the bag she was looking hiding in the back. The sacred garment was wrapped in plastic and so pristinely preserved that Lucy almost wept. Her mother promised when Lucy got married, this dress would be hers. Lucy’s great grandmother had sewn this dress by hand for her daughter’s wedding day and then Louisa wore it on her wedding day. It had been passed down through generations and Lucy dreamed about the day she would get to wear it. The dress was as much Lucy’s legacy as the leather cut she’d neatly folded and placed in her suitcase. This may not have been the wedding Lucy ever expected but it only seemed right to uphold the tradition…

Lucy stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, silently assessing the stranger who stared back at her. She had been told, on several occasions, that she was pretty. Lucy wasn’t sure that was true. Her hair was naturally black and, because of the wild curliness, had a tendency to frizz. Lucy swept her hair up into a delicate coif and pinned the curls to keep them from getting unruly. She’d inherited her onyx-colored eyes from her mother; they were bleary and puffy from lack of sleep. For the first time in a long time, Lucy put on a little bit of makeup—just enough to hide the dark circles staining the delicate skin beneath her eyes. With a smear of lipstick and just a hint of blush, she stepped back to assess her work. Even though Lucy knew she was not a great beauty, she would make her mother proud today.

Tugging the plastic away from the wedding dress, Lucy’s heart swelled in her chest. Reverently, her fingertips traced the intricate bodice adorned by a myriad of tiny, perfect pearls. The sleeves were trimmed in silk and felt incredible against her skin. The train was fairly short but the overlay was hand-sewn lace. Easing the dress over her head, Lucy’s greatest fear was that the dress wouldn’t fit. She was more voluptuous than her mother…then again, when Louisa wore this dress she was already several months pregnant with Danny. Much to Lucy’s relief, the fabric cradled her curves like a lover’s hand.

A car door slammed and the thud of footsteps got louder as he headed into the house. Lucy knew instantly that it was Gabe; she’d have recognized his heavy tread anywhere. He made his way through the kitchen to search for her then looped toward the bedrooms. He paused when he reached the door to her parents’ bedroom. Lucy watched him in the glass, memorizing his expression of awe. There were easily a hundred buttons, starting at the curve of her spine and stretching all the way up her neck. “Can you help me, please?” She asked softly.

Archie’s breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of Lucy. Seeing her in that wedding dress almost brought him to his knees. He didn’t immediately trust himself to speak but inched toward her nonetheless. Archie’s fingers felt clumsy as he carefully slipped each delicate pearl button into the corresponding scalloped edge. Every once in a while he glanced up, meeting her soft gaze in the mirror. When he was finally finished, Archie stepped back and dragged a hand over his stubbled jaw. Something primal had awakened inside of him and he was having a hard time keeping it under control. “I’m…underdressed.”

“You look fine.”
Really fine
, Lucy thought to herself. Gabe was never sexier than when he tossed on a pair of dark blue jeans, a white button down shirt, and his leather cut. She instantly recognized the cowboy boots he had bought in high school. It had taken months of mowing lawns, delivering groceries, and odd chores to earn enough to buy them. Once he had, Gabe wore them almost every day. He kept them pristine by oiling the leather and Lucy knew for a fact he drove two hours to see a cobbler every year. If Gabe was even half as good a husband to her as he was to those boots, they would be okay.

Lucy wondered what her mother would say if she could see her preparing to marry Gabriel Archer. Lucy wanted to believe her mother would be proud—if not concerned that Gabe and Lucy were marrying for club business instead of love. “The first memory I have is of my mother is her telling me that
this
was going to be my wedding dress. I must’ve been three or four years old…” Lucy chewed on the bottom of her lip as she faced her reflection again. “I want to honor her today.” Her palm smoothed over the bodice of the dress before she felt brave enough to face him head on. “Does it look alright?” It had been a long time since this dress saw the light of day, Lucy needed to make sure it wasn’t stained or spotted somewhere she hadn’t noticed.

“Lucy, you’re beautiful.” The words tumbled from Archie’s lips before he could stop them. For years he’d tried to ignore the attraction between them, but it was getting harder by the second. In an attempt to keep those traitorous thoughts at bay, Archie turned his back. He noticed that her suitcase was sitting on the bed and he grabbed it without asking. “We should get going.”

Lucy nodded her acquiescence. She did one last check to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She was ready as she’d ever be. After leaving a note for Danny, Lucy headed onto the porch. Her entire body tensed as Gabriel’s arm snaked around her waist and he lifted her into his arms without warning. “What are you doing?” She gasped incredulously as Gabe carried her out to the van. “I’m pretty sure the tradition is to carry your bride over the threshold
into
the home, not out of it.”

Archie smirked as he plopped her into the passenger seat. “It rained last night, Luce. I didn’t want you to get any mud on your dress.” He ignored the little voice in the back of his head telling him he was just looking for an excuse to hold her in his arms. Perhaps if he got used to Lucy in small doses, he could build up immunity once and for all. While his brain said that was a logical conclusion; his heart told him with every passing moment, he was in more danger of losing himself completely…never mind what his cock was thinking! That part of him was dying to skip the wedding and go straight for the honeymoon.

Lucy remained silent as they pulled out of the driveway and headed out to meet their fate. Most of Errol’s citizens wouldn’t begin to stir for several hours yet. The only two souls they saw on the drive through the neighborhood were the local paperboy and Old Man Jenkins who practiced yoga in his boxers every morning at dawn. Gabe’s posture was tense and his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Are you sure you want to do this.”

“I’d give up my life for this club,” Archie replied irritably. “I
am
giving my life up for this club,” He muttered.

A flash of hurt clawed its way to the surface before Lucy could stop it. Anger filled her next but Lucy truly wasn’t upset with Gabe, she was furious at
herself
. Of course he wouldn’t want to marry her! He barely tolerated her. For the last ten years he’d gone out of his way to keep their interactions brief and curt. Getting married wasn’t going to fix anything between them. Lucy tamped down on the impulse to drag her fingers through her curls; it would ruin her attempt to quell the frizz. She dug her fingernails into her palm instead. “It’s not forever, Gabriel.”

Archie visibly flinched. He
hated
being called Gabriel and Lucy knew it. There was only one woman who had ever called him by his Christian name and that was his mother. Lucy had long ago taken to calling him Gabriel when she was really angry or upset but Archie couldn’t figure out why Lucy would be either right now. “If we’re going to pull this off, we need to be honest with each other. So, you want to tell me why you’re so pissed at me?”

“Where should I start?”

Sighing heavily, Archie eased into a spot in front of the tiny courthouse and killed the engine. “Look, I get it. You’ve got something to prove, Luce. You want in this club and you think that I’m standing in your way.”

“You
are
standing in my way,” Lucy countered. “When you found out Monster used your proxy to vote me in as a prospect, you threw the mother of all tantrums. Don’t think I didn’t notice the black eye he was sporting last night. I bet you put him on grunt work for the next six months, too.” So far, Gabe was denying nothing. “
Then
you tried to intimidate me into giving up my patch and got pissed off when you failed. I’m not entirely convinced this wedding isn’t your way of trying to control me!”

Archie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Excuse me for wanting to protect you! If you think these guys see you as anything but a pair of tits, you’re out of your damn mind!” He snapped, “Most of them aren’t like Danny and I. Many have criminal records, sexual deviances…some of them are even like my father.”

Lucy felt her blood run cold. Gabe
never
talked about his father. The man who sired Gabriel was a member of the Wichita branch of the Devil’s Own MC. Erik Archer was tall, dark, handsome, and a sociopath. He had a penchant for violence and served half a dozen years in prison for aggravated assault and battery. It all boiled down to the fact that Erik enjoyed knocking down those that were weaker than him; his favorite targets were his wife and young child. Gabriel was barely out of diapers when his mother had packed him up and sent him to Errol where the Hardings unofficially adopted him. To this day, Gabe still couldn’t forget the bruises around his mother’s throat or the tears in her eyes as she kissed him goodbye one last time. A week later, his mother shot Erik in the head moments before she succumbed to the injuries he inflicted on her. It was a tragedy Gabe had never truly recovered from…

Archie was vaguely aware Lucy had called his name several times. The soft touch of her hand against his shoulder startled him out of his memory. He wrenched away from her, his fist tightening on instinct. Archie’s stomach tightened in agony when Lucy flinched. Why shouldn’t she expect violence? Archie was convinced given half a chance, he would be the exact same kind of monster as Erik Archer was. Although his initial movement startled her, Lucy did not seem to be afraid. Her onyx eyes shimmered with a combination of empathy and annoyance. Archie furrowed his brows at her.

“Are you still with me?” Lucy’s heart twisted in her chest as she watched him wrestle with invisible demons. She reached out again, refusing to be brushed aside this time.