Fury: Book 2 in the Vengeance MC series (29 page)

Dakota and I were sitting on the front steps of our house one day when Nick came to visit. This wasn’t a rare occurrence, in fact, he came over often. We were both deep in thought, so needless to say, he scared the crap out of us when he popped up out of nowhere, but him being there that day ended up being highly beneficial.

See, we had been thinking about a nickname for Neveah for weeks. She was only four, but Dakota and I felt like she was missing out by not having one. Again, remember this is kid logic. We explained out quandary to Nick, and the good friend he is came to the rescue.

He told us he thought Neveah was as graceful and pretty as a butterfly, and with the way she flitted from person to person, the name Flutterby was born. Neveah loved it then, but now? Not so much.

“So flutterby, where’s Grandpa?” I ask, referring to Nick.

“Right here, Avery. But I prefer, Nick,” he says with a smile.

Giving me a wink, Nick claims Neveah and Cody, Dakota. I can’t help but sigh at the sight of my sisters with their men. They are all so happy they could burst. It might have taken a long time to get there, but in the end, they did, and I couldn’t be more ecstatic.

Mom takes ahold of my hand, pulling me into her embrace. There’s nothing like a Mom hug, even when you’re twenty-five.

“Are you happy, baby?” She asks quietly.

“So happy, Mom,” I whisper, tears burning the back of my eyes. And it’s true. In all my life I’ve never been this happy and I never thought I would be.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“What?” I ask curiously.

“Finding your happy ending,” she smiles. “Your Dad and I had a beautiful beginning, a rocky middle, but our ending is more than I’d ever wished for. All I ever wanted for you and your sisters was to have what your father and I have. Minus the rocky patch in the middle, that is. It took you longer than it did them, but I always knew it would. You needed someone special, Avery. I’m not saying the men your sisters have chosen aren’t special, but they aren’t the kind of partner you need.”

“How so? Cody does amazing work at the youth center. He helps so many of those kids and he loves Kota like crazy. And Nick, he’s a little rough around the edges, sure, but he adores Neveah. They’re perfect for each other,” I declare, unsure of where she’s going with this.

Mom squeezes my hand in hers and smiles down at me meaningfully.

“I love Nick and Cody. And you’re right, they are perfect for Dakota and Neveah. I’m not saying what they have isn’t beautiful, baby because it is. And I love that for them. That doesn’t stop me from wanting more for you, though. You need someone to challenge you, a man who isn’t afraid to stand up to you when you’re being stubborn. A man who’s strong, fierce, and protective. But you also need that person to support your dreams, hold you when you cry, and be there for you even when you are bound and determined not to let anyone in. Fury’s that man, baby. He always had been. I saw it when you were fifteen, but I was sure of it when I saw the look on his face after he brought you home from that awful place. What you two have is different to what your father and I, and both of your sisters have. You two have had to fight for what you have, Avery, and in my eyes, that makes it, even more, beautiful.”

“Oh, Mom,” I breathe.

“Just telling the truth, beautiful girl,” she states, kissing my cheek. “I love you, Avery.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Five years later…

“Baby, how fucking long does it take to get ready? We’re only going to your parents for Christ’s sake.”

Scooping my son up off the floor, where he’s been busy entertaining himself for the last hour while his mother gets ready, I groan at how heavy he’s getting. It feels like yesterday Avery gave birth to him when in reality it was a little over three years ago.

Dexter Amos Scott – named after Gage and the son I had lost before I had the chance to meet him – came into the world four weeks early with a set of lungs to rival his mother. He was fucking perfect. He still is.

Having a baby in the house was a huge adjustment. Not for Avery but for me. I was home as often as I could be when I wasn’t needed at the club, but I didn’t realize until Dex came along how much I took for granted Avery would be awake and waiting for me.

Finding her passed out in the strangest of places, some of which being; at the kitchen table, on the floor beside Dex’s bouncer, and once sitting on the closed lid of the toilet clued me into the fact my wife was struggling. Avery wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t called her on it, it’s not her way. But after copious nights of no sleep, breastfeeding non-stop, and not even having the opportunity to take a shower in peace, I stepped in and took the choice out of her hands.

In the beginning, she didn’t thank me for it. Avery was all fired up to be the best mother and wife she could. What she didn’t know was that she already was. I explained it to her, telling her that she wasn’t any good to our boy, me, but most especially her if she didn’t take the time to look after herself. Mine wasn’t a popular point of view, but eventually, Avery caved and let me take Dex out for a few hours so she could have a bath and get a few hours sleep. It worked, because afterward, my wife was a much nicer person to be around.

I’m not saying, Avery isn’t nice, she just wasn’t herself back then. Let’s put it this way; she wasn’t her usual charming self when faced with sleep deprivation and the inability to spend four hundred years in the bathroom at any one given time.

Avery and I got married in the courtyard outside the clubhouse in a small ceremony only attended by family and friends. It was what we both wanted. Neither of us was interested in having a big wedding. As long as she got to wear the wedding dress of her dreams, her Dad walked her down the aisle, and everyone we knew and loved was there, my woman was happy. And I’m all for making her happy so I made it happen.

We’d been living together for six months when I proposed, but if you ask Avery it wasn’t much of a proposal, it came across as a demand. And for the most part, she’s right. I wasn’t taking any chances that she’d say no, so I took her out on my bike to a natural hot spring I found by accident one day and popped the question. I may have told her we weren’t leaving until she said yes, so she might as well give in and agree on the spot.

Four months later – because that’s all the time I was willing to give her – Avery, Blaine, Beth, Lonnie, and Kennedy had our wedding planned, along with the after party. That’s the only part of our wedding day I have regrets about. Cash, Gage, Boss, Diesel, and I got so drunk that I couldn’t make love to my new wife.

What was worse was when Avery decided to share this with her friends. They gave me shit about it for months afterward, even now it’ll occasionally come up in conversation. Don’t ask me how, but they work it in there somehow.

“Oh, my God. Seriously?” Avery snaps from the mouth of the hallway. “If you had to carry around the equivalent to a watermelon for months on end, pee every five seconds, and spend twenty minutes trying to get up after you’ve fallen down attempting to tie your shoelaces up, you’d take a long time to get ready too.”

Grinning at her, I walk over and pull her into my arms. My son, the peacemaker he is, leans toward her, laying a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek.

“Lub you, momma,” he says in his cute as shit little boy voice.

I swear I hear my wife sigh in delight every time he does shit like that.

“Love you more, buddy. Now, go find your shoes please,” Avery prompts.

“Boots, pwease?” Dex asks, begging Avery with his eyes to let him wear the Harley boots I picked up for him last time I was in Denver.

“As long as you get socks too, you can wear your boots,” she concedes.

Avery wasn’t impressed when I brought them home. Not because she didn’t think they were adorable, in fact, she gushed all over those bastards. No. My wife was pissed because she thought I was attempting to turn our son into my clone before he’d even made it to school. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either.

I don’t care what my son does for a living or whether he joins the MC when he’s old enough, but no kid of mine is going to be caught dead wearing a pair of fucking Crocs. Yeah, you heard me. Avery bought my son fucking Crocs. Made him wear them too.

On a side note; Avery lost her shit when she found me burning all six pairs in the backyard. But when I explained my feelings about my son wearing shoes suited for people who worked in morgues, she relented. I didn’t let up until I got her promise not to replace the fuckers as soon as my back was turned, though. That promise took sexual coercion on my part, none of which I begrudged and both of us got off on, So, in the end, it was all good.

Spinning Avery in my arms until we’re only separated by her eight-month pregnant belly, I kiss her speechless and whisper,

“Next time let me know you’ve fallen and you can’t get up. I might video it and send it to all our friends first, but then I’ll help you up, baby.”

Slapping my chest, Avery hisses,

“You are such a shit. You’re lucky I love you Tanner or I’d kick your ass.”

I’d like to see her try. Hauling around our unborn daughter is hard enough without her having to exert the amount of effort it would take for her to lift her leg. Since I value my safety, and my balls, I keep that piece of information to myself. But Avery knows me well enough to know what I’m thinking.

“If you say it, then I’m going to smother you in your sleep. I don’t even have to roll over to do that,” she grins back at me.

Loading Dex, Avery, and the sixty-two bags Avery is adamant we need to make the two-hour trip to see her parents in Blackwater, we’re on the road only fifteen minutes after we should have been. That’s got to be a new record for us. Usually, we’re running, at least, half and hour late for everything.

This will be the last trip we make to see Saint and Tilly before Harleigh Blaine Scott is born. Avery finds it hard enough being in the car for twenty minutes without needing to stop and find a bathroom, let alone two hours. But this is a special occasion, one she refused to miss. And I don’t blame her. It’s not every day your sister gives birth.

Neveah and Nick got married a month after Avery and I did. There wedding was a hell of a lot different to ours, though. Neveah had always wanted a big affair; flowers, church, bridesmaids, reception, the works. And Nick being the pussywhipped bastard he is, gave it to her. Not that I wouldn’t have done the same if Avery had wanted that, but that doesn’t mean I would have liked it.

They weren’t as lucky as we were in the pregnancy stakes, however. Neveah suffered three early term miscarriages, one last-term one – she was six and a half months along – and one stillbirth before finally delivering a healthy baby boy yesterday. And if I know anything about, Neveah, Flynn Tobias Forbes is going to be the most celebrated baby in the history of all babies. Hence, the coming home party Nick’s arranged for her today.

Looking over at my wife, who’s fallen asleep with her head on the window and her hands protective cradling our unborn baby, and in the rearview mirror at my son out cold in his car seat, I can’t help thinking about how fucking lucky I am.

Years ago, I would never have imagined this would be my life, that I’d get a second chance at not only love but having a family too. Sure, I had the support and respect of my brothers, but it isn’t the same as having a woman who adores you and a son who thinks you hung the moon.

If you’d told me then that Avery would be the woman who would give me that chance, I’d have said you’re fucking insane. I wanted this with her, I always have, but not once, then or now, did I think I deserved it.

But if my wife has taught me anything, it’s this. People don’t deserve second chances because the number of chances you get at happiness should be infinite. And if you love someone, forgiveness isn’t an option, it’s a guarantee. Avery lives that philosophy and now, so do I. There will never come a time I won’t give what we have, her, our lives together another chance because if I didn’t, there would be no us. And that’s not a reality I’m willing to live with.

Once I thought I lost it all. All of it gone in the blink of an eye. But I was wrong. Because here, in my truck is everything I’ve always wanted and never knew I would have.