Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (3 page)

BOOK: Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2)
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I stared back at my club prez for a split second, acutely aware of the way both Casey and Tiny straightened up a little in their seats across from me. None of us had really expected Marcus to put me on the spot like this, but this was just yet another test and another way to prove myself.

Knowing I needed to get down to business, I cleared my throat and tapped my cigarette into the ashtray in front of me.

"We got all the way through Charleston with no problems, but when we stopped at a gas station right outside of town, it was pretty obvious we had a tail. Definitely ATF. They weren't even trying to downplay it all—it was like they wanted us to know they were right behind us, watching our every move."

"Shit," Dom exhaled next to me. "The re-route went okay though, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "No problems. We hopped on a backroad and changed course to Cincinnati and doubled down there for a few days. Once we got back on the road, we didn't have any other issues."

It was exactly what had turned a three-day run into a seven-day run and it had also royally pissed me off. These assholes had been in town for at least a few months now and they were always hanging around, like they were daring us to make a wrong move. They acted like we hadn't been an operational club for decades and that we'd be stupid enough to put ourselves in a position to get caught.

"Pricks," Heath huffed from his seat next to Marcus. "I'm real sick of seein' them in my town."

"Gotta say though," I mused and took a long drag from my cigarette. "I'm kinda surprised they haven't done more than they have. I mean, they've tailed us around town, tailed us all the way up to Charleston this last run, but that's really it. They've obviously got nothing, but I have a hard time figuring out why they haven't even stepped foot on Horsemen property yet."

"You'd think that would've been their first move," Casey nodded to me, his eyes crinkled up in thought.

"Well, after them following us on this last run, I have a feeling we're gonna be hearin' from them sooner rather than later," Marcus called out from the head of the table. "But, that being said, they're not gonna find shit. And until those assholes get outta our backyard, we gotta lay low. No more runs. No more transfers. Meetings only."

"They keep tailin' us and eventually they'll get what they need," Heath nodded to his prez. "After awhile, they'll either get reassigned or just move on. We've seen it before and this time ain't gonna be any different if we play it the same as every other time."

"Yeah, but we're also gutting our income by playing it that way," Dom reasoned and I could practically see the wheels in his head turning.
 

I was thinking the exact same thing: that income paid the bills. We needed that money. Shit.

"Yeah, well," Heath shot his son a pointed look from across the table. "If you've got a handle on your money the way you should, holdin' off on runs and other club business for a few more months should be no problem."

When Dom's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists underneath the table, that was pretty much my cue to step in and diffuse.

"If we've gotta back down on runs and other business like that for awhile, which I think we can all agree is a good idea, maybe it's time we start looking into other ways to earn and see if—"

"We're not hard-up for cash, Caleb," Marcus cut in abruptly. "We just keep our shit together for a few months and all this'll blow over before we know it."

Now it was my turn to fist my hands underneath the table. Everything with him was just one giant battle. One step forward, two steps back. One test after another. I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever have a shot at actually passing all these tests, especially if Marcus could so easily dismiss me like that at the table when all I was trying to do was help for shit's sake. It just wasn't up for discussion.

His way or the fucking highway.

Given that I'd just spent a shit-ton of money all in the span of about 30 days, I didn't think it was so unreasonable to talk about other ways the club could earn other than guns. All Marcus saw were dollar signs and a quick, easy way out.

"Let's wrap this up now, huh?" Marcus went on, as if he hadn't just disrespected me in front of the whole club and produced four stuffed envelopes from inside his cut, promptly tossing one to me, Tiny, Casey, and Doc. "Happy payday, boys. Don't spend it all at one strip joint, alright? You gotta spread the love a little. Make sure all the girls know who their daddy is."

I just shook my head and opted not to comment. What my mom saw in that guy...nah, not going there. Not worth it. Besides, what I needed to do now was swap my earnings for this week with that little velvet box I'd had in my safe for a month.

.
     
.
     
.

I let myself into Isabelle's apartment, using the key she'd given me the day she moved in, and tossed my keys on the kitchen counter. It was a pretty small space, but she'd somehow managed to make this tiny one-bedroom apartment feel a little like home even on an equally tiny budget. Her influence in this apartment was everywhere, from the kitchen table and its mismatched chairs we'd found at a consignment shop to the evidence of her blood, sweat, and tears hanging on every wall.

Man, it was good to be home.

And, hopefully, if everything went as planned, we'd be calling somewhere else home soon, too.

I turned the corner and headed right for the hallway, pausing just a moment to smile at the painting hanging right in the center of the wall. The whole canvas was covered in swirls of different shades of blue and sometimes, if I stopped and stared at it for too long, I could get completely lost in the movements of her paintbrush.

I grinned at the painting one last time before gingerly opening the bedroom door and sneaking inside. Now that grin slipped back up my face again, but this time, it was because my eyes hungrily settled on Isabelle for the first time in seven days. Talk about a sight for sore eyes. She was all curled up onto my side of the bed, hugging my pillow with her hair fanning out all over her face, and I had to take a moment to drink all this in.

Beautiful. Peaceful. Mine.

That was all the time I needed before I kicked off my shoes and slid into the bed right behind her so I could pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her. She stirred a little and yawned before finally opening those beautiful blue eyes I'd missed so much.

"Hey," I murmured into her hair.

"Hi," she whispered back, her lips curving up into a sweet, tired smile. "I'm glad you're home. I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I leaned in to kiss her as I spoke, but she crinkled up her nose and quickly turned her head so my lips found her cheek instead.

"Maybe you shouldn't kiss me," she grimaced.

"Hey now, I don't care about that. I'm gonna be sleepin' next to you tonight anyway, so I don't think it really matters."

She laughed a little and shifted in my arms. "I'm pretty sure you can't catch it, but I threw up before I laid down and haven't gotten a chance to brush my teeth yet."

I frowned at her. "Threw up? My mom said you weren't feeling too hot, but she didn't say anything about that."

"Yeah," she laughed again and I just didn't see what was so funny about puking. "I feel like I've been throwing up all day."

The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Did you cook last night?"

Isabelle whipped around, her eyes darkening with a scary mix of playful animosity and she smacked me in the chest. "Shut up, ya jerk! Yes, I cooked last night and I did
not
make myself sick."

Right. Just like I didn't get sick the last time she served me spaghetti with meat sauce that was so raw she might as well have just unwrapped the ground beef and dumped it into the sauce. At least I was smart enough to plaster a smile on my face, swallow down a few bites, and thank her for cooking for me.

"Okay, okay," I held my hands up in defense. "Sorry. Seriously, though, are you feeling okay?"

She shrugged a little and leaned into my chest. "My stomach's still a little queasy, but I'll be fine."

Jesus, if she was this sick—and was she really puking all day or was she exaggerating?—maybe I needed to postpone my plans until she was feeling a little better. But then again, I heard my mom's words in my head:
trust me, you won't be sorry.

I guessed this was just one of those times in my life where I was going to have to trust my mother. Shit. That didn't feel too good.

Might as well get on with it before those cold feet snuck up on me again.

"Hey, I know you've been feeling shitty lately, but do you think you're up for a ride tonight? I gotta show you something."

She eyed me carefully, like she was trying to figure me out. If she just gave me an hour or so...

"Well, I was gonna make dinner and—"

Ah. That probably wasn't a good idea, especially if she was already sick. Didn't need to add her cooking into the mix, too.

"Let me take you out," I suggested, careful to keep my tone as far away from critical as possible. "We're gonna have to make a stop first, but I'll take you wherever you wanna go. You pick, I'll pay."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're just trying to get out of eating my spaghetti, aren't you?"

She was planning on making spaghetti? I threw up a little in my mouth just thinking about it.

"Uh," I winced a little and she buried her face in my chest, her whole body shaking with laughter. "Maybe?"

"Since it's a special occasion and all, I think maybe we should go out."

Yeah, definitely dodged a bullet there.

"But," she went on, chewing on her bottom lip a little as spoke. "I have to talk to you about something first though."

I grinned down at her, but that quickly faded away when I found careful, hesitant blue eyes staring back up at me.

"Okay, well, us talking is kinda the point of going for that ride, Iz. Can we wait to have that talk until we get there?"

I had no idea what was up with her because something clearly was, but I needed to get her on my bike and where I needed her to be before anything else happened. Waiting a month was long enough.

"Um, okay. But do you think maybe we could take the truck instead of your bike? You know, with..."

Right. If she'd really been puking all day, taking my bike was probably a bad choice anyway. Whatever got her on the road with me.

"Yeah, that's no problem. Why don't you get that sweet ass out of bed so we can get on the road, huh?"

When she just laughed and smacked me on the chest again, all my worries and all the things making me trip up just slipped away.

She was
it
and I'd be a damned idiot if I did anything but spend the rest of my life proving it to her.

.
     
.
     
.

"Um, Caleb," Isabelle's voice floated through the silence in the cab. "What are you doing?"

I almost wanted to laugh. She was probably sitting here wondering why the hell we were parked in the driveway of some strange house.

"I, uh," I scratched the back of my head nervously as I spoke. "I just bought this house."

Her eyes just about fell out of her head and I wanted to kick myself in the balls. Was it too much to ask to say one thing eloquently? Jesus, there was no way I was going to survive the rest of this night if I couldn't get my shit together. Why the hell was I so nervous all of a sudden? This was Isabelle. I loved her and wanted her with me for as long as I could have her.

"You...bought it?" Her eyes glimmered with something I couldn't quite place and I almost wanted to roll my window down and vomit onto the pavement I'd just bought.

"Uh, yeah. You wanna go inside? I just got the keys last week."

A hesitant smile broke out across her face and that had to be a good sign. When we were finally inside, her feet stalled inside the main hallway to our little three-bedroom ranch house and that little bit of panic I'd batted down before suddenly fanned out, spreading through my chest and threatening to take over my lungs.

My throat tightened when she still didn't say anything. I figured I knew her well enough by now to know that she'd be more than a little annoyed, upset, disturbed, and everything in between that I'd gone ahead and made a decision like this without at least discussing it with her first. But to be fair, it was my money and it was time for me to grow up already. Besides, I figured as soon as she heard me out, she'd be on board too. At least I hoped.

But she still hadn't said a word. Her face was just blank, like she couldn't process all this at once. Now I felt like I'd just made a huge mistake.

"I know I should've said something, but I wanted to surprise you."

Her blue eyes sparkled and she moved into the kitchen, carefully stepping inside the empty space and taking everything in.

"The way I see it," I explained desperately, trailing after her as she traveled into the living room and then down the hall. "I've been living in the clubhouse since I was 18 and now that I've got you, I guess I figured it was time to move on. You know, be an adult and all that shit."

BOOK: Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2)
8.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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