Unbeautifully

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Uncomfortable, Deuce shifted irritably in one of the two high-back wooden chairs Preacher had in his office.

With his hands steepled in front of him, his elbows propped on top of his monstrous, archaic, wooden desk, Preacher nodded gravely. “I agree. Big Jay’s gotta go. I’ve ’bout had it with his fuckin’ games and now this shit, hittin’ the Horsemen up when I’ve been payin’ them more than enough just to let our boys cross the fuckin’ street in their territory.”

Deuce stared at him, his head not really into the conversation but instead wondering how his boys would feel about him handing them over to Preacher and consolidating both clubs. Preacher was a strong leader; he took good care of his boys and their families. He would do the same for the Horsemen.

He could leave then. Take to the road knowing Eva, his kids, and his club would all be looked after.

“I’ll kill you,” Preacher growled and his head jerked up.

“What?”

“I said, I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you hurt either of them girls of mine.”

What the fuck? How the fuck? Was the guy a fucking psychic?

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“You think I don’t know what a man looks like when he’s thinkin’ ’bout runnin’? Seen it a hundred different times on a hundred different men. Life starts takin’ its toll, they’ve seen too much shit, done too much shit, and suddenly they’re drownin’ their bullshit in booze and pussy, and their marriages are fallin’ apart, and they’re hittin’ the bottle even harder, and then they’re dippin’ into shit they shouldn’t. All they wanna do is get on their bike and hit the road, start over, or find a quiet place to curl up and die.”

Deuce didn’t say anything. He didn’t have anything to say. Preacher was dead-on and he was too goddamned tired of everything to argue with the man.

“You think I didn’t wanna run?” Preacher shook his head. “You think I wanted to raise a little girl without her mama in a club full of assholes? And after I found out what Frankie had been doin’ to my baby, right under my nose? But what fuckin’ choice did I have? The day I put this patch on…”

Preacher slapped his hand over his “Prez” patch on his cut.

“The day you put that patch on was the day you handed over your life. You ain’t just the prez, Deuce, you ain’t just runnin’ a club, leadin’ those boys. It ain’t just a responsibility.

“It’s you, brother; your club, your boys are you. You start bleedin’ and they’re all gonna bleed with you. The club comes first, you know it, I know it, every man who gets patched in knows it. Don’t matter how bad shit gets with your old lady, your girls on the side, your fuckin’ kids, you gotta keep goin’. Those boys of yours and their families, they are your family too. They ain’t just respectin’ you or lookin’ up to you, they’re countin’ on you to do right by them. You know this shit, Deuce, the club always—”

“Comes first,” he growled, interrupting Preacher. “I fuckin’ know.”

“Yeah, you know it, but preachin’ it ain’t livin’ it. Time to get back to livin’ it.”

Fuck. As much as he hated Preacher, mainly because the fucker had shot him twice, he couldn’t dispute a single word the man had said.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like you any more than I liked you when I first saw you pawin’ at my underage daughter,” Preacher growled. “But for some fuckin’ reason she loves you, meanin’ I’m keepin’ my mouth shut.”

Deuce narrowed his eyes. “You call this keepin’ your mouth shut?”

Preacher shrugged. “I’m keepin’ my finger off the trigger, ain’t I?”

Jesus Christ, if Eva ever decided she hated her old man, he was going to be first in line to put this asshole in the ground. He might do it anyway, tell Eva he had no clue what happened to Preacher and for all he knew, aliens from outer space had kidnapped the slick bastard.

“You know,” Preacher continued, “me and your old man go way back. Knew him when I was just a kid. Knew your mother too, had a goddamned crush on her…and those fuckin’ dimples of hers—”

“Is there a point to this fuckin’ bullshit?” he spat. The last thing he wanted to hear about was Preacher’s crush on the mother he’d never gotten to meet.

“Yeah, asshole, and I was gettin’ to it. Woulda gotten to it by now if you woulda kept your fuckin’ mouth shut.”

The two of them glared at each other until Preacher gave first, shaking his head and sighing.

“My point is, Reaper didn’t give a fuck about the club, didn’t give a fuck about your mother, or your brother’s mother, or any of you. All he gave a fuck about was himself and what the club or what his bitches could do for him. He wanted power and money, he used the club to get it, he wanted kids to pass the gavel to, and he used those little girls to get ’em. But when it came down to it, he ain’t never gave a fuck. And Deuce, that ain’t you. I know you got love for your boys and your family and that’s why you’re thinkin’ runnin’ is what’s best for ’em all, but I’m tellin’ you it ain’t. You leave and those boys are gonna fall apart. As for those kids you’ll be leavin’ behind, you tell me how it felt growin’ up with an old man who didn’t want ya? All you had was your little brother and when you lost Cas, then what the fuck did you have?”

Fucking shit, thinking about his old man, his mother, and his dead little brother was making it hard to breathe. Deuce rubbed the heel of his palm over his chest in a large circle.

“You had the club,” Preacher said. “And you took the mess your old man left behind and you turned that shit into a brotherhood. You tossed out the garbage, you had your boys pull their shit together, and then you started pulling in more strays then any MC I’ve ever known. Done my homework on all your boys; I know Dirty and Hawk were starvin’ on street corners before you found ’em. Know Cox was stealin’ cars for his next meal, and Ripper, seventeen, no family, didn’t know jack shit about bikes, and what’d you do? Brought them all home with you and gave ’em all a family. You leave them, you’ll be rippin’ out the rug from underneath them all and your kids won’t even have the club to fall back on. Nobody will have nothin’.”

With his arms folded across his chest, Deuce gave Preacher a half-lidded glare. “I really fuckin’ hate you,” he growled.

His knowing eyes trained on him, Preacher pulled a smoke out from behind his ear and lit it.

“Deuce,” he said, exhaling. “The feelin’s mutual. Now, I’m gonna tell you what I tell all my boys when they’re actin’ like fools. Go grab a bottle and a bitch and fuck all that poisonous bullshit outta your system. Then you go home to my daughter and my grandbaby and your kids and your boys, and you fix whatever the fuck is broken. And if you don’t, I’m gonna come collect my girls, maybe grab Kami away from that dirty fuckin’ spic she married while I’m at it, but as for the rest of ’em, brother, that’s your problem.”

“Yeah?” he said dryly. “And while I’m drinkin’ and fuckin’, what the fuck are you gonna be doin’ ’bout Big Jay?”

Preacher took another drag off his smoke and shook his head. “I’m postin’ the hit tonight. You don’t gotta do a damn thing.”

• • •

With her sleeping toddler straddling her hip, Eva attempted navigating through the front of the club toward the back hall, wanting to leave behind the din of several ongoing conversations, the children crying or complaining, men laughing, women giggling. After five days, the constant noise was painfully bouncing around inside her skull, making her head ache for peace and quiet, and making her stomach churn with constant anxiety.

She’d never before minded lockdowns. In New York, she’d usually spent them in her bedroom, listening to music with Frankie or later, when they were older…

Her eyes started to burn and her grip tightened on Ivy.

Frankie.

Turning away from everyone, she closed her eyes…

Leaning back against the outside of the Demons’ brownstone, tall and broad, his thickly muscled, heavily tattooed arms folded over his chest, stretching the material of his black T-shirt, his long brown hair pulled tightly back, his head cocked to one side, his dark hungry eyes focused on her, a smile playing on his lips.

“Baby,” he said in a low, harsh voice as he crooked two fingers. “Come here.”

A cry bubbled up from her aching heart and lodged painfully in her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling the loud release of air.

No. She wasn’t going to think about Frankie. That chapter of her life was over. She’d made sure of that when she’d put a knife through his throat. There hadn’t been any other option. Frankie had been too far gone, causing too much pain to everyone he came into contact with; he’d been a walking time bomb.

Somehow Eva had managed to overcome the crippling guilt that killing him had caused. She’d pulled herself out of her pain, and taken control of her life again.

It was Deuce that was refusing to let it go.

Frankie had done the worst thing he could possibly do to a man like Deuce; a man who would have taken any sort of physical punishment Frankie could have meted out, preferred it actually. But Frankie had known that and instead had rendered Deuce immobile, forced him to watch the woman he loved being fucked by another man, then to take her, leaving him wondering if he was ever going to see her alive again.

To a man like Deuce, what Frankie had done was a punishment far worse than death.

It was also something a man like Deuce wasn’t going to forget.

She’d tried…

And tried…

But she couldn’t do it anymore. When it came to Deuce, it felt as if she’d been running in circles her entire life.

It wasn’t just her anymore; she couldn’t afford to be selfish, to do as she pleased, to let the man in her life do as he pleased. To keep waiting on something that might never happen. She had a daughter who deserved the very best life Eva could give her.

She was leaving.

The decision had been made the night Deuce had left for New York. She was going home, back to her father and the Demons, back to what she’d thought she’d left behind for good in exchange for a life of happiness with the man she loved. She hadn’t told anyone yet, hadn’t had a chance to. The very next night the club had gone on lockdown and now she was stuck here.

“Do you want me to take her for a while?”

Dorothy appeared beside her and held her arms out. Grateful, Eva smiled as she passed Ivy, who blinked sleepily as she was shifted between them but settled instantly back to sleep on Dorothy’s shoulder.

“I need something to keep my mind off Jase and Chrissy,” Dorothy whispered, rubbing small circles on Ivy’s back. “She’s out there talking about their upcoming anniversary—”

Eva stopped listening. Dorothy was a broken record when it came to Jase. Constantly upset yet still holding out hope that Jase would someday leave his wife, when it was clear to everyone except Dorothy that he never ever would.

Lost to her own thoughts, she watched as Ripper came through the swinging kitchen doors and hooked a left toward them. She braced herself for his usual death glare.

“Yo,” he said, passing by her and a still chattering Dorothy.

Her eyes widened in surprise. It wasn’t friendly but…it wasn’t horrible either.

Was he finally ready to forgive her for being married to the man who’d hurt him? She hoped so. It devastated her seeing his scars, what Frankie had so callously done to him.

My god, how had she not realized what her own husband had been capable of until it was too late?

Eva shook her head, still trying to clear Frankie from her thoughts, when the kitchen doors swung open again and Danny walked out, headed in the opposite direction.

“Hey you,” she called out and Danny spun around, a startled look on her face.

“Uh, hey,” Danny stammered, her cheeks pink.

Studying her, she noted that the girl wasn’t just flushed but sweaty…and disheveled. Really disheveled. As in her pink tank top was on inside out and her jeans skirt was partially unzipped.

Drawing her brows together, Eva glanced over her shoulder to the end of the hall where Ripper had paused to talk to Mick and Bucket and then she looked back at Danny. Her heart did a nosedive down into her stomach.

Danny and…

Oh my god, she couldn’t even think it, it was just too bizarre. Bizarre and…Deuce was going to flip his shit. All she could envision was bullets and blood and bodies piled sky-high.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay, okay, okay…she had to think about this…about what she going to do about this.

Yeah, right. What the fuck was she supposed to do about this?

One thing was for sure, she couldn’t leave Danny with only her brother and father in the middle of whatever mess she’d gotten herself into with Ripper.

God, how had that happened?

And what the fuck was Ripper thinking?

If Deuce ever found out, he would kill him. Kill. Him.

For the second time in the span of only a few minutes, her heart dropped.

Ripper wanted to die. He’d finally lost his very last shred of give-a-damn and jumped off the cliff of no return. She’d seen it coming, everyone had seen it coming, but everyone had been holding out hope that after enough time had passed he’d eventually pull himself together.

Instead, the opposite had happened. He’d grown worse over time, bitter and cold.

What was Danny doing with a man like him? An angry, broken, older man, who was in all probability using her to get himself killed.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

She wasn’t in any position to judge Danny. She’d made her share of mistakes over the years, some far worse than anything Danny would ever do.

And Danny was legally allowed to have sex with whomever she wanted.

But Danny was still a teenager, a deadly combination of immaturity and feelings. A big, fat, messy bank vault full of female emotion that you needed a jackhammer just to breach the surface of.

Who obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. Or at all.

“Shut up, bitch!” Cox roared, startling everyone as he appeared at the end of the hallway.

“Never!” Kami screeched, her heels clicking heavily on the cement floor as she marched after him. The second Kami caught sight of Ripper, Eva cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Ripper,” Kami purred, headed his way. “Hey, baby.”

“Stay back!” he yelled. “I refuse to get shot because of your crazy ass!”

She grinned. “You did prefer my ass, didn’t you, baby?”

Behind Cox, Danny made a small choking noise and Eva watched Ripper’s gaze shoot to her, his jaw clenching.

“Ripper!” Cox bellowed. “I’m gonna fuckin’ bury you!”

Sighing, Ripper grabbed his gun from the back of his leathers and waved it around in the air. “Either of you take another step in my direction and I’m cappin’ you in the knee.”

“You want me on my knees?” Kami said silkily. “You got it.”

“Kami!” Eva hissed, grabbing her best friend’s arm before she could get any closer to Ripper. “Stop it!”

“Christ,” Ripper muttered. “You touch me, Kami, I’m gonna put a bullet in each of those bony knees.”

Ignoring Eva, uncaring that Ripper had no problem shooting her and Cox was ten seconds from strangling her, Kami continued smiling sensually at Ripper.

“You’re so fuckin’ crazy, bitch!” Cox yelled, yanking Kami out of Eva’s grip and pinning her up against the wall.

“And you’re a fucking whore!” she screamed.

“I smiled at her, bitch! That’s all I fuckin’ did! For fuck’s sake, you insane fuckin’ whore, I fuckin’ married you! I haven’t been inside another bitch in forever!”

Kami brought her knee up straight into Cox’s balls and he went down like a sack of potatoes, cupping himself and groaning. Hands on her hips, Kami glared down at him. “Do you want a medal, Cox-sucker?” she hissed. “I already know you haven’t touched another woman! I have you followed!”

“You…crazy…bitch,” Cox gasped. “As soon…as I can…I’m gonna…fuck…you…to death!”

Kami snorted. “Promises, promises.”

“Did you two forget to take your meds today?” ZZ asked, poking his head around the corner.

“SHUT UP!” they yelled simultaneously.

Spinning on her heel, Kami stormed off, leaving Cox in a fetal position on the floor.

“I hate lockdown,” Dorothy muttered.

“Me too,” Cox said with a groan.

ZZ burst out laughing. “Dude,” he called out. “You brought this shit on yourself. You marry crazy, crazy is what you’re gonna get.”

Ripper nearly knocked over Dorothy as he stormed past them, cursing as he headed in the direction Danny had since disappeared. She supposed now that Danny had just crudely found out about Ripper and Kami, he had some damage control to contend with.

Frowning, Eva stared down the hallway after him. No, she couldn’t leave. Not in the eye of a major shit storm. If she went home now, who would be here to buffer between Danny and Deuce when the shit hit the fan? Cage? No. Cage loved his sister but he was about as articulate with emotional confrontations as his father and preferred using his fists when things got heated. Deuce and Cage would only end up beating the hell out of each other, and Ripper would still end up dead, and Danny…

Who would be here to pick up the pieces of Danny’s broken heart if Ripper ended up breaking it?

She was going to have to shelve her own problems for a while and make sure the family she loved—but was eventually going to have to leave—stayed together after she was gone.