Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (23 page)

I blacked out.

When I came to, it was like somebody lit a furnace under my ass.

No, wait. More like my entire back.

When I opened my eyes again, the hurt all over me turned to fire. I sweated through the worst fuckin' fever of my life.

Summer sat next to me, squeezing my hand something fierce, tears in her eyes. “Goddamn it, stay with me, Jackson. I've been waiting all day for you to wake up.”

“Sorry, babe. I'm so fuckin' sorry...”

“Don't.” Her little fingers covered my lips. I could barely feel them through the delirium. “Don't apologize. Please. I'm the one saying sorry. I tried to run from you, Joker. Ran like hell when I should've known it was way too late. Truth is, I didn't want to be hurt. I couldn't handle it again, after I'd loved and lost, knowing Alex might be gone, too. But you weren't the one hurting me. I screwed up – never should've blamed you for what that bastard did.”

“He's dead now, baby girl. Motherfuckin' dead.”

Her eyes widened, just two big, green, placid oceans. “Yeah, he is. You saved us. You saved Alex.”

“Whatever. Did what I fuckin' had to. I ain't no hero. I stopped playing at that shit years ago.”

“Stop,” she said sharply, leaning down, looking over to somebody else and mumbling a few words. “Can I kiss him?”

If it was Laynie, I would've screamed
say fuckin' yes
, if only I could've gotten my voice an octave above leaves blowing through the trees.

Thank fuck, I didn't need to.

She had her little lips on mine, hot and wild as ever, making me feel alive despite half of me being dead. Eaten up with fever and infection.

“You're mine, Joker. You're my hero. My love. You always were, and I wish I hadn't doubted it for so long. Never again,” she sighed, shaking. “Whatever happens, we'll always have family. I love you, and everything you've given me. You're my whole world, and you always will be. You, me, Alex, and Grandpa. Even Bingo.”

Hearing that shit made me smile. Only thing I could do before the hot, fiery darkness reached up, squeezed my throat, and knocked me the fuck out again.

* * *

I
sat up in bed
, propped up, watching as Laynie worked off one of my casts. Summer was by the window, playing with her hair, Alex bouncing happily in her arms.

Bingo brushed up against my leg. I was smiling too much to give a shit about the pain.

“Here, take my hand,” Laynie said, holding it out. “I want you to try standing. Your shoulder's a lot worse than your feet are, like we discussed, so you should be able to walk.”

That last part, she didn't sound too sure. Fuck it, I had to try.

When I first stood up, it was like I had burning napalm running down my thighs, my knees, all the way to my feet. Summer's eyes were huge, focused on me. I could practically hear her lungs holding in breath.

“Come on,” she whispered under her breath. “You can do it.”

I made it out about a minute, maybe two, before I had to sit my ass down. Laynie lowered me onto the bed, a grin on her face.

“Much better than I'd hoped! Yes sir, I think you'll be back on your feet, with some help, in another couple weeks. Until then, I'm sending you home with this.”

I took one look at the walker and groaned. “You gotta be shittin' me.”

Never fuckin' thought I'd have this in common with Grandpa,
I thought.

Damned well better be a little while.

Over in the corner, Summer laughed. Alex stretched out his hand, waving to me as I grabbed the bars, helped myself up, and took my first brutal steps.

“Just take it easy, Joker,” Laynie whispered. “Exercise your muscles, every day, but don't overdo it. Patience. Ya'll need loads of it here.”

“Patience, patience, my fuckin' ass.” I snorted.

When I looked up, feeling the sweat beading on my brow, Summer stood in front of me. “You're doing good, baby. Let me help. It's the least I can do.”

I hated looking weak, especially in front of my own damned woman. But fuck, I didn't refuse taking her hand, helping her steady me on this damned contraption.

Not the manliest shit in the world, but it brought us together.

It did something. Soothed the hurt we'd suffered over Alex getting kidnapped, dried all the tears she'd cried when I was laid up a week ago, half dead from fever.

Bingo stood by the door, watching me. When I moved a few more inches, he tilted his head up, barking several times, like he was trying to pump a brother up.

“Take him slow,” Laynie told Summer. “Dust wants to see him out back. Here, let me walk behind you.”

The old nurse grabbed Alex, carrying him along with us, while Summertime opened the door. We slowly trundled down the hall, passing the empty bar, heading for the first church session I'd had in fuckin' forever.

Halfway there, Alex yawned in Laynie's arms, and then belted out a sound that stopped us in our tracks.

“Da-da-da!” he giggled, clapping his little hands.

My shoulder burned like a complete motherfucker as I whipped my head around. Damn if it wasn't worth it.

The kid watched me like I'd just flown down from the moon and handed him a chocolate bar. He admired me. Fuck, he
knew
who I was, finally, his own flesh. His old man.

“Oh my God,” Summer gushed, throwing her arms around my neck, kissing me on the cheek. “It's about time! I've been waiting for him to say it forever.”

My lips quirked, sly as ever. “And we're celebrating with a peck on the cheek? Come on, girl, just because I have a walker doesn't mean I'm eighty fuckin' years old. Give it up.”

Laughing, she leaned in. I pushed my fingers through her hair, holding myself up with the one good arm. I'd crawl over rusty nails to taste these lips.

Really
fuckin' taste them.

I drank her deep, kissing her like I hadn't for weeks, because I'd been too fucked up. My lips were hungry, making up for lost time. Even my dick came outta its coma, straining in my pants.

Fuck, my lust didn't know my own limits. I didn't care.

“Shit, bro, there you are!” Sixty interrupted the perfect moment a second later. “Everybody's waiting for you! Need a hand?”

“Nah. I'll take it from here,” I said, watching him approach, Lion at his side. Two scruffy bastards, the opposite of the sweet, suckable face I remembered how bad I wanted to ravage.

“Later, babe. We'll catch up later,” I promised, looking back over my shoulder.

I saw Laynie pass the kid to his ma. They stood there the whole time while the brothers helped me along, underneath the neon red beer sign, smiling like I'd just handed her the world.

If only she knew what I was planning to drop on her later, as soon as I got my full strength back, or close enough to it.

Woman didn't have a clue. She wasn't the one who should've been there, looking at me with those, loving puppy dog eyes.

She'd given me everything. Her and that kid.
Family.

Soon, I'd be giving it back.

* * *

G
randpa sat
in his wheelchair next to Dust, our guest of honor, who hadn't been to the clubhouse in at least a solid year. They were all gathered around the old fire pit, all the boys, full patch only.

“Christ, Joker. They really busted you up bad,” the old man said, shaking his head. “That why I'm here?”

“No, Grandpa. It's fine. You're here 'cause some other fuckers got what they deserved. Prez, show him.”

Dust nodded to Firefly, who stood up from a big rock. He'd been sitting on the torn scraps we'd pulled off Hatch in the end, right before we poured gasoline all over their clubhouse and lit it the fuck up.

“Take it,” Firefly said, nodding respectfully to Grandpa.

His old hands shook when he took the scraps. He needed about another minute to realize what the fuck he was holding, turning it over, studying it.

“Shit. No, fuck, no. You boys bullshittin' me?” He looked up, staring at me, and then moved his eyes along the brothers, one by one.

“No bullshit,” Dust said, reaching over to squeeze his hands. “These came straight off Piece's killer. Joker heard the fuckin' devil admit it himself.”

Grandpa lost it. He slumped back in his wheelchair, clutching the dead man's patches, staring through the tangled branches reaching over the clubhouse to the sky.

If he were younger, maybe he would've screamed.

Fuck.
I walked over, forcing myself to through the pain, shaking my head at the brothers who were halfway off their seats, ready to help me.

Didn't fuckin' need it for this. I had the strength.

This was a moment for the brotherhood, for my family, written in blood. I crouched down on the empty seat next to him, threw my arm around his shoulder, squeezing him as tight as I could.

“God. Fuck. Damn.” Grandpa shook when he said each word, overwhelmed. “Finally. I can go to my fucking grave in peace, seeing this.”

“No fuckin' way, old man,” I growled, waiting 'til he looked at me, seeing the tears in his old eyes. “You've got at least a few more good years, being a great grandpa, before we let you bite the bullet.”

His wrinkled face smiled. “You're a good boy, Jackson. All you boys.”

He looked up, taking my hand for a second, before I let him go back to clutching the bloodied trophies he was holding. “Dusty, you've done right by this club. Right by me. You did what you said, even if it was a long goddamned detour.”

“No. Don't deserve none of that praise. Truth is,” Dust said, standing up, pulling his pipe from his lips. “Every man here made this happen. It should've happened sooner, if we'd been stronger, and I fuckin' lied so it didn't.”

Everybody went silent. Yeah, I'd forgiven his lying ass for holding me back on my choke chain for years. But the rest of the brothers? Who the fuck knew.

They'd gotten their shit together well enough to come storming in with the Grizzlies, kicking Deads' ass. Didn't mean the wound was closed. Half the boys around me looked like they were seething, waiting for an apology that hadn't come.

Dust cocked his head, looking around. “Everybody here, you delayed the vote on whether or not you wanted me to put down the gavel so we could deal with Hatch and his assholes. That was the right choice. Now, ain't my place to say what's right and wrong anymore. It's up to you. I owe you boys that vote.”

Grandpa looked at him slowly, and the two men locked eyes.

“You strike me down,” Dust said, a tremble in his voice. “That's your damned right by the club charter. I'll step down in peace and pass the Prez patch to Joker, 'til you decide whoever the fuck you want running this club permanently. That's the other reason you're here, Don. You've got yourself a vote as long as you're alive and breathing. You rode with my old man, Skin's old man, and all the brothers who ain't here anymore to make a choice one way or another. You weigh in with the rest of us.”

Grandpa leaned in his chair, the scrap of Hatch's cut dropping to the ground. He looked at me. “Joker votes first. It's only right.”

All eyes were on me. I stood up, grinding my teeth through the pain, steadying myself on that fucked up walker.

“Brothers, I know what Dust did. His shit cut all of us, but it cut me the fuckin' deepest. He lied, sure. Fuck, though, he kept us alive.” I paused, feeling the tension roil the air. “You demote him, I'll take his patch for ten days. No more. I don't want the fuckin' gavel. Going through the shit I did – all the beatings, the torture, watching that piece of shit taunt me with my own kid – it flung my head around 'til I came face-to-face with God. He told me exactly how I oughta live the rest of my life, and I'd be a damned fool to say no. I'm doing my duty to this club, to my brothers, but I ain't taking on any more. Soon as I'm healed up, I'm going home every second I'm not here. I'm gonna give my woman and my son the world.”

Slowly, the brothers began nodding. They understood.

No matter how much shit went flying between us, sometimes, we all had each other in our hearts.

Always.
Fuckin' always.

Dust was about to start the vote, looking at Firefly first, but I stopped him in his tracks.