Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (23 page)

“I hope so. Are you sure that you're not mad? I tried to call.”

“I'm not mad, hon. I'm just concerned. I want you to make the choice that's best for you. I'm glad that you figured out they're not out to kill you. Maybe now, you'll be open to thinking about what I asked you.”

“That was a really shitty proposal, Monroe. You realize that, right?”

“Right,” he confirmed. “I'll get it right the next time.”

“Why don't you get it right now?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why don't you ask me again?” she suggested.

“I still don't have a ring,” Monroe told her. “And I'm not sure that this is romantic.”

“I don't need romantic. I would like a ring, though, at some point.”

“You really want me to ask you now?” Monroe wondered if she was still under the influence in some why. She might not have wanted romance, but this was just so low key.

“I'd hurry if I were you, I'm starting to get a little sleepy over here.” As if to prove her point, Drea lay back on the bed, shifted into her favorite sleeping position, on her side facing him.

Monroe reached over and turned out the light. “Let's set the mood.”

“Very nice,” she said with a laugh.

“Andrea Vargas, will you marry me?” He laid his hand on her hip.

“I have a condition, actually, a couple of conditions.”

“Conditions?” Monroe repeated. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. First off, Claire doesn't get to come between us. I know it's what she wants. She can't have it.”

“And she won't,” Monroe replied. He'd thought he'd made himself very clear with her, but then she'd shown up earlier. “What else?”

“I don't want a big fussy wedding. City Hall works for me.”

City Hall worked for him, especially if it meant not having to wear a suit. “You've got a deal, as long as I don't have to wear a suit, but I want you to wear a dress, doesn't have to be all fluffy or fancy.”

“I'll wear a dress,” she promised.

Monroe felt a sense of relief. Even though she'd asked him to ask, part of him had feared that she would she would say no again. “Any more conditions?” he asked.

“Just one, don't ever call me Andrea again.”

“I can handle that. So, what do you say?”

“Yes, James Monroe, I will marry you.”

Relief flowed through him. “Take my mark?”

“I'll take your mark. I'll take all of you.”

Monroe couldn't help but chuckle. “You realize that sounded kind of dirty, right?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she suggested as she tugged him closer.

He did more than just kiss her. Once his lips were on her, he shifted them so that he was on top of her. She'd simply stripped down when they got home, getting under the covers with only her panties on, so she was warm and naked beneath him. “Let's not wait. Let's get married soon,” he suggested as he broke his mouth away from hers.

“How soon can we get a license?” she gasped as he nipped down at her throat.

“I've got a couple of favors left; I think I can get one pretty easily.” Monroe smoothed his tongue over the spot he'd just nibbled at. “You really want to talk about it now?” She made a sound that told him she didn't want to talk anymore, which was fine by him because he could think of much better things to do with his mouth.

Monroe worked his way down from her throat, over her collar bone and down lower. Drea moved restlessly as he peppered kisses over her skin. Her hands grabbed his head, guiding him to her breast. She knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it, which never failed to turn him on. Everything about her turned him on. Not for the first time, Monroe realized he hadn't known what love was until Drea came along. The feelings he had for anyone, including Fiona, paled in comparison.

Monroe moved his mouth back to hers as he slid a hand between them. He found her ready for him, hot and so wet his dick twitched almost painfully. She cried out as he rubbed his fingers roughly against her clit. Her hands grasped his arms, her nails dug in as she began to move her hips. The cries spilling from her lips got louder, more intense, and he knew that she was close.

She went over the edge, flooding his hand as he plunged two fingers inside of her. He continued to fuck her, hard and fast, with his hand until her body was no longer clamping and twitching around him. She sank back against the bed, but he didn't let her settle. Instead, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

Monroe made quick work of removing the basketball shorts he tended to sleep in. Once freed, his cock strained at the proximity to her. Drea kept her eyes on his as he moved between her legs, grabbed her thighs and pushed them towards her.

Sliding inside of her felt like coming home. Monroe began to move slowly, filling her and pulling back. Each time she whimpered, and with each whimper the control he had over himself began to crumble. He increased the pace of his strokes, felt her body tremble. Pleas and cries spilled from her lips. She was going over again.

Her body clenched tight around him, she screamed and then he saw the tears streaming down her face. His first instinct was to stop, in case he was hurting her, and she must have realized his intentions. In a move he didn't expect, she pushed her legs against his hands, broke his hold and wrapped her legs around him.

The change in position sent him deeper inside her. Monroe groaned, and she grinned a wicked grin. Her legs were like a vise around him, her hips moved frantically. She was going over again, and this time he went along with her.

They collapsed onto the bed together, a sweaty mess of limbs, with him still deep inside of her. Monroe pressed his lips to her forehead. “Am I crushing you?”

“No, this is nice,” she replied. “I'm thinking tomorrow.”

“For what?” Monroe wasn't sure what she was talking about or if his brain just wasn't able to process simple English yet.

“I want to get married tomorrow, if you can get the license sorted. What do you think?”

Monroe thought that there was nothing he wouldn't agree to when it came to her. “I'll make a couple of calls, see about calling in those favors. It's pretty short notice, though, are you sure that you can get a dress and all in time?”

“Honey, you've seen my closet, haven't you?”

“Yes,” he said with a chuckle.

What are you waiting for? Make the calls.”

“Let's wait until a decent hour, hon. People are more likely to do you favors if you don't wake them up in the middle of the night.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Married? You're getting married?” Casey looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.

“Yes. I'm getting married. Why is that so hard to believe?” Drea was more amused than offended by her friend's surprise. “Okay, maybe it's quick, but what's the point in waiting?”

“Oh, I don't know. A real wedding and a ring, maybe?”

“I don't want a big thing. Just me, Monroe and witnesses. You can be my witness, right?”

“I'm going to choose to hear that as you asking me to be your maid of honor,” Casey replied. “And you're really not giving me a lot of time to plan a party.”

“I don't need a party,” Drea said, almost sure that it didn't matter what she said. Casey had a look in her eye that said she was already starting to plan.

“Lies. Dirty dirty lies. Everyone needs a party. Oh, wait! I know. You're having lunch with the old ladies today, right? Maybe we can turn that into a party. I mean, they're going to want to do something for you too since you're joining the ranks. I could call one of them if you give me a number.” Casey was just about bouncing up and down in the chair.

Drea bit back a sigh. Big parties, with her at the center of attention, were not her thing. Uncle Tony had been a huge fan of throwing a party. Each time, he'd have her dress up in a fancy dress and keep her by his side when he made a welcoming speech. Eventually, she'd been the one to give the speeches, at Uncle Tony's insistence. He didn't care how uncomfortable it made her. After stuttering her way through the first one, she'd learned to fake her way through it. She didn't want to have to feel like that at her wedding.

“I don't want a fuss, Casey. Seriously, I mean it.” Drea had the sinking suspicion that her plea was going to fall on deaf ears. Before Casey could reply, Drea's phone began to vibrate on her desk. A glance at the screen told her it was Monroe. “One second,” she said as she picked up the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey. Caesar should be there any minute. I need you to go with him. Don't ask questions, okay?”

“Okay,” Drea replied, even as her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. She jumped in her chair as the buzzer rang.

“I'll get it.” Casey popped to her feet and headed for the front door.

“Wait,” Drea called out. “Don't let anyone but Caesar in. Not even our guys.” She reached over and opened her middle desk drawer, took out the gun she kept there and clicked the safety off. Something was going on. It'd be great if she knew what, but for now she'd just stick to being prepared.

Casey opened the door when it became clear that it was Caesar on the other side. He came through the door with an all-business look on his face. “Both of you, grab your shit. We're going, now.”

Drea realized that she hadn't heard Caesar's bike approach, which meant that he'd driven. A finger of fear moved up and down her spine. “Casey, grab my bag and your purse, please.” Drea focused on Caesar. “It's pointless to ask what's going on, right?”

“Right,” he replied with a smile. “It's nice to see that you're always prepared. Hopefully, you won't need to use that.” Caesar looked over as Casey came back into the room. “Let's go.”

The ride back to the clubhouse was the longest of Drea's life. Every worst-case scenario that she could think of assaulted her brain. There were so many thoughts, almost none of them made sense because they were looping over one another. She forced herself to focus on the perimeter, the cars they approached and the people hanging out on the sidewalk. Every one of them was a possible threat, an unknown enemy ready to strike. By the time they finally got to the building and pulled around back, she was ready to be out of the car and the dark.

The back door opened as soon as they came to a stop. Monroe stepped out. There was no force in the world that could have kept her in that truck and away from him for even a moment longer. She nearly stumbled in her haste.

“Easy, hon.” He met her halfway. “Come on, let's get inside.” Monroe took her by the arm gently, steered her towards the door. “Nothing strange happened at the office today?”

“No. It was quiet. We're not shooting anything until next week, when the guys get back from their vacation.” Drea followed him inside and realized that everyone was there from the sound of voices. Monroe grabbed her hand and held tight as he led her past everyone and up the stairs to the dorm area.

Once they were in the room, door closed and locked behind them, Monroe turned to her. “This morning, a woman rang the doorbell at Caroline and Buster's place. Caroline was there alone, Buster had already left. The woman said that her car had broken down, her cell phone was dead and she needed to use a phone. Caroline went to get the land line and when she came back, the woman was gone.”

Drea's stomach sank. Caroline was one of the sweetest people she'd ever met, trusting and kind. “Did she get hurt? The babies?” She wasn't sure that Caroline or Buster would be able to survive if something happened to those babies.

“They're all fine. She's here, sleeping in one of the other rooms.” Monroe walked over to the bed and sat down. “Come and sit with me.”

“Don't sugarcoat it, Monroe. Whatever it is, just give it to me straight.” Drea had never had a conversation that required sitting which didn't include something horrible. She went to sit down next to him, but instead he pulled her on to his lap.

“That's what I'm trying to do, hon.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Caroline called Buster because she thought it was strange. She was on the phone with him when someone broke in the back door. She went out the front, across the street to the neighbor. The security cameras caught a real good look at the people who broke in.”

“That's good.”

“That's how we know one of the guys was Frankie.”

“Wait, what?” Drea was glad that she was sitting, she might have fallen otherwise. Frankie had broken into Buster's house. It didn't make any sense.

“You can see the video for yourself, Drea. I wanted to talk to you before you did,” he said seriously.

“I didn't know he was even in Detroit or why he'd go break into Buster's place,” Drea spoke in a rush. “I promise that I didn't, Monroe. I wouldn't do that. I couldn't!” Worst-case scenarios began to play out in her head at warp speed.

“I know that, hon,” he said softly.

“Everyone has seen the video? Do they all know it was Frankie?” Did they all blame her for bringing him to Detroit? Would they believe that she'd been clueless? Drea wouldn't blame them if they didn't. After all, everything with Frankie made her seem pretty stupid. Fuck it, she was stupid.

“Everyone has seen it, so they know that it was Frankie. We're going to need to know if you recognize the other guy.”

“If Frankie is doing something stupid, he's doing it with Matt.” Drea didn't have any doubt about that. Sadness welled inside of her, Sarah and the kids would be devastated, even with all that had happened.

“Still, you'll need to look and be sure.”

“I'll look. I'll do whatever you want.” Drea knew that she sounded desperate, but she didn't care. “Please...”

“Easy, hon. Easy. It's all going to be alright.”

Drea wished that she had his confidence in it. Before they could say anything else, someone knocked on the door. Monroe rose to his feet, opened it to reveal Caesar. “We're ready for you upstairs,” he said.

“Come on, hon.” Monroe turned and held out his hand to her. Upstairs meant the off-limits room where Nightshade held their meetings. Her stomach twisted into a knot as she got to her feet.

The last time that she'd been this nervous was the night that she'd lain in wait to kill Carlos. Every moment of that night had seemed like an eternity, just like every step up the stairs filled Drea with even more dread. By the time that they actually stepped through the door, a firing squad on the other side wouldn't have surprised her.

Instead, she saw a room dominated by a large wooden table and matching chairs. Stepping inside the room felt like stepping into somewhere sacred, which didn't help her nerves one little bit. Drea clenched down on Monroe's hand hard.

“Hey, Drea.” Buster spoke first, with a smile. If he was pissed, or suspicious, he was hiding it well.

“Hey,” she said, her voice stronger than she'd expected.

“I'm sure Monroe filled you in on our eventful day today,” he said.

“He told me what happened with Caroline and that Frankie was on the security tape breaking in. I didn't even know the bastard was back in Detroit.” Drea had the truth on her side, and she was going to use it.

“I'm sure that he's gone to lengths to not be seen,” Buster said dryly. “I know I'd hide if I'd robbed some pretty powerful people.”

Something clicked together in Drea's mind. “You think that Frankie robbed Nightshade and Sugar Sugar?”

“And one of our business partners,” Buster confirmed. “I need you to take a look at the video, tell me if you know the people with him.”

“I've got it over here, Drea. You want to sit?” Ace offered.

“I'm good. Thank you anyway.” She let go of Monroe's hand, walked over to where Ace sat. “Show me.” Immediately it was clear that it was Matt with Frankie. “That's Matt Burns, Frankie's equally fucked-up best friend. I don't know the woman.” There was nothing familiar about the skinny brunette.

“What do you know about Matt Burns?” Manuel asked.

“He was Frankie's partner in the failed club back East. He left a wife, two kids and a mistress to come here to be with him. Matt's not the sharpest tool in the shed.” As she spoke, Drea tried to sort her jumbled mind out. “If you're wondering if Frankie's sharper, capable of organizing something like the robberies, the answer is yes.”

“Do you think he'd come to you if you reached out to him?” Train asked.

“Frankie's mostly a dumb ass, but he's smart about some things, like saving his own ass. I've been pretty clear that I'd like to put a bullet in his head, so he might be suspicious if I'm calling being all nice, but I'll try. I'll do whatever I need to for you all to know that I had no part in this shit.”

“If we thought that you did, this conversation would be going a very different way, Drea.” Buster's words were both chilling and reassuring at the same time. “So, we hear that there's going to be a wedding tomorrow.”

“That's the plan,” she answered.

“Actually,” Monroe cleared his throat. “I've been thinking about that.” Drea wished that she'd taken Ace up on his offer to sit. Here came her worst fear, Monroe's cold feet fueled by what Frankie had done. She remained on her feet only because her pride wouldn't let her go to her knees in front of everyone. “Easy, hon. Let me finish.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “What's wrong with tonight?”

“Tonight?” Drea repeated. “Who is going to marry us tonight?”

“If I can find someone, will you marry me tonight?” Monroe asked.

“Of course I will.”

“Fantastic.” Monroe grinned from ear to ear. “Ace, think that you can get Father Pete over here?”

“I'm sure I can. I'll give him a call soon as we're done here.”

“We're done here,” Buster announced with a grin. “And I'll see what I can do about getting the two of you a wedding cake.”

Drea realized that her ideal, quiet, just them and witnesses wedding was not going to happen. Surprisingly, it didn't bother her as much as she thought she would when she looked over at Monroe. He was smiling, excited, as it seemed everyone had a suggestion for the wedding cake. These men were his brothers, his family, and she realized that she'd been denying him their involvement with the proposed tiny wedding.

“If I'd have known that this was going to happen, I'd have grabbed something to wear.” Drea looked down at the black dress she'd chosen that morning. It was simple, short sleeved and just not what she'd imagined herself getting married in.

“You might want to go downstairs and talk to my old lady,” Manuel suggested. Drea hadn't even noticed his approach. “She brought the kids here in her truck. Odds are that she's got at least a dozen bags from her shopping habit stashed in the back. She sneaks 'em in the house one at a time, thinks I don't notice, but I do. She should be able to hook you up.”

“Or I can go home and grab you something,” Monroe offered. “Whatever you want, hon.”

“Let me talk to Sandra first, see what she has to offer.” Drea told herself she'd choose something Sandra had or just keep on what she was wearing before she'd ask Monroe to go out if they were worried enough about Frankie to have everything locked down. “You know, you never told me what your mark was going to be or where it's going to be.”

Monroe chuckled in response. “I guess that you'll see soon enough, won't you?”

<#<#<#<#

Drea couldn't stop her hands from shaking as she made her way down the stairs to what would be her wedding. The staircase entrance had been Monroe's idea, she'd have preferred not to be stared at while walking in unfamiliar heels, but the look on his face when she reached the bottom made her forget her discomfort, it made her forget everything except for just how much she loved him.

He stood in front of Father Pete, dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a white button-down and his cut. His brothers stood alongside him, the old ladies on the other side. Monroe turned to face her, smiled and moved forward to meet her halfway. “You look beautiful, hon.” He reached out and took her hand.