Sanctuary (Freaks MC Book 2) (13 page)

“
Yes, he does. He's just got shit to deal with. Just hang on, girl, is all I'm saying. He'll figure it out.”

~ oOo ~

Samson looked up as the plate of toast was slammed in front of him. “You actually gonna say something, Beth? Or just give me death glares all day?”

“
Joe told me to stay out of your shit, so that's what I'm doing.”

“
Where is he? I thought he'd taken the day off to take you and the kids to the beach.”

“
Out.” She glared at him. “Thought you weren't staying.”

“
Why are you assuming I'm the bad guy here?”

“
You telling me you're not?”

He shrugged and began to butter his toast. “I'm just trying to do the right thing.”

“Well obviously that's working out just fine.” She nodded to the bag of clothes, then turned her attention to her son. “Come on Lukey. Let's go and get that diaper changed. Wave bye-bye to uncle Samson. He'll be gone when we get back downstairs.”

“
C'mon, baby girl. Don't be like this.” Beth ignored him and stomped upstairs with Luke. He looked down at Abi, sitting on the floor surrounded by toys. “At least you're not mad at me, Princess.”

She looked up and pulled her thumb from her mouth. “Doose.”

He was still staring at his toast when Beth came back downstairs. After putting Luke into his bouncy chair, she sat opposite him and helped herself to a slice. “Go home, Samson. Make things right with Emma. She really loves you, but she's not going to put up with this forever.”

“She's better off without me.”

“
If you really believed that, why did you let her come here?”

“
It was a mistake.” He sighed. “She deserves better.”

“
When I left Joe. Why did you bring me back?” She took a doll from Abi, and with her eyes never leaving his, dressed it. “Did I not deserve better?”

“
That's different.”

“
How so?”

“
You know what he is. You've always known. Emma's...”

“
Emma knows what you are. She's not stupid. And she's not some china doll you need to pack in cotton. If she decides she can't handle this life, that's her call. Not yours.” She frowned. “You can sit here pretending to be all noble, and that you're doing the right thing by letting her go. But the fact is, you're a coward. It's not her who has the problem with what you are. It's you. But you're too chicken shit to face up to it.”

He stared at her for a moment, then grinned. “I think I preferred the glaring.”

Reaching across the table, Beth laid her hand on his. “I love you, Samson. I couldn't wish for a better friend. More than anything I want you to be happy, and Emma does make you happy. I can see it when you're together. What you do for the club.... I know it eats at you sometimes, and I don't know how you get right with that. But I do know that driving Emma away isn't the answer.”

“
How come someone as dumb as Tiny ended up with a woman as smart as you?” He took her hand and kissed her fingers.

“
You got a perfectly good woman at home. Stop hitting on mine.” Tiny strutted to the table and took the last slice of toast. “Although how long she'll still be there, I ain't sure. I'd get back quick if I was you. She's still pissed.”

“
You been to my place? Fuck, Tiny. What did you say to her?”

“
Thanks for the vote of confidence, brother. I can be sensitive, you know.” He slapped Beth's back as she choked on a piece of toast. “Actually, I just stopped her from leaving your sorry ass.”

~ oOo ~

“Hey.” Emma looked up as Deke walked in and sat at the table. She'd been sitting, staring into space, since Tiny had left, unsure of what she should do next. “I'm sorry, Emma. You pissed?”

“
Pissed, confused, hurt. Take your pick, Deke.”

“
Wanna take a ride?”

“
Not this time. I want an explanation.”

“
I dunno what to tell you, baby girl.”

“
How about the truth?”

He took a deep breath. “I don't deserve you.”

“That's it? Not good enough, big guy. If we are to have any sort of future, you better find a way to deal with whatever shit is going on in your head.” She pushed her chair back and walked over to the window. Down below she could see his bike parked next to her little VW. “Do you love me?”

“
Yeah, of course I do.”

“
But you don't trust me.”

“
Yes, I do. When have I ever said I didn't trust you?” He ran his hand over his head. “I can't tell you club shit. You know that.”

“
I'm not talking about the club.” Emma turned to face him. “Well, not directly. I'm talking about how you see me. You don't trust me to be able to deal with who you are. Well, here's the thing, Deke. I've been dealing with that since the first time we met.”

“
It's not that.” He shook his head. “I know you
can
deal. But... Fuck... I don't want you to, okay.” He stood and slammed the table with the flat of his hand. “I don't want any part of my life to touch you.”

“
It's touching me now. It touches me every time you ride away and every time I see the scars on your body. I just want you to stop treating me like a child, and I'd really like to get off this pedestal you've put me on. I'm a grown woman, and I want to be treated like one.” She sighed. “Tiny said you don't know how to separate the man you are with me and the man who wears that cut, and it's that that's eating at you. I'm not sure how right he is. But I do know that it doesn't matter to me. I love you – every part of you. The man and the outlaw.”

“
You wouldn't if you knew what I was really like.”

“
Are you even listening to me?” She pointed to her laptop on the table. “You see that? With that I can access the internet. You have heard of the internet, right? I can find out all sorts of shit on there. I can even see records of arrests and court appearances. So you see, big guy. I do know what you're like.” She stepped closer and laid her hand on his chest. “And I know that in there is a good man.” Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him. “Now, I think you said something about going for a ride.”

FOURTEEN

The Freaks probably weren't the world’s best strategists, and there was a chance that dumping a body on the steps of the Serpiente clubhouse would be enough to get them to change their plans, but Wolf had figured that greed and arrogance would win out, and as they sat, crammed into the back of the van waiting for the exchange to take place, Samson was inclined to agree.

The plan was simple. Get in quick, spill some Mexican blood and get out before the cops arrived.

No one spoke as the sound of Harleys grew louder. Silently they waited. Then, as the two groups pulled onto the lot, Wolf nodded, and they sprang into action.

The whole exchange probably lasted less than a couple of minutes. Two chaotic minutes of noise, smoke and blood. This was where Samson excelled. He may have had no stomach for torture, but give him an honest firefight, a sawed-off shotgun and a Molotov cocktail, and he was a happy man. His lit a gasoline bomb and hurled it in the general direction of the assembled bikes, then dived out of the way as a bullet whizzed close to his ear. Scrambling to his feet, he took down another Serpiente asshole and grinned as two bikes were engulfed in a ball of flames. He glanced to his left; Tiny was running back towards the van, still firing. There was blood running down his left arm, but he seemed unaffected. “You okay, bro?”

“Yeah, fucker clipped me is all. C'mon, let’s get outta here before the pigs show up.”

The conquering heroes were in high spirits as they returned, almost entirely intact, to the clubhouse. Tiny and Wolf has been hit, but both were only flesh wounds, and although Samson knew that once the adrenaline wore off they would sting like bitches, there was no real damage. He was limping a little as he crossed the clubhouse floor – he'd hit the ground hard – it wasn't bad, but it was noticeable enough for the club girls to run over and offer to take care of him. Ignoring them, he headed for the bar. “Gimme a Jack.” The prospect put a glass on the bar and poured him a large one. “Leave the bottle.” He pulled up a tall stool and waited for his brothers to join him. He knew that this was just the start, and that the Serpiente would regroup and retaliate. But for now they could celebrate their first victory.

~ oOo ~

Emma put the phone down with a shaking hand. Her offer had been accepted. She'd bought a house – albeit a house that was uninhabitable – and now she wanted to celebrate, if only she had someone to celebrate with. Beth was busy, so with a little trepidation – she hated calling him when he was doing club stuff – she dialed Deke's number.

He answered on the second ring. “Hey. S'up?”

“I thought you'd like to know I'm soon to be the proud owner of a property with huge potential and sea views.” She laughed. “I'm also in need of a stiff drink.”

“
I'm at the clubhouse. Come and join me.”

“
I...”

“
Just get your ass over here, Emma. The tequila's top notch.”

“
Okay, I'll be about half an hour. I need to make myself presentable.”

She was learning that just as it was always sunny in her old kitchen, it was always midnight in the clubhouse. No natural light made its way through the blacked-out windows, and the only areas that were illuminated were the bar and the pool table. Of the light bulbs that hung from the ceiling, only one seemed to be working, and an old neon sign that had probably been pretty bright back in the day flickered sadly on one of the walls.

After taking a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, Emma looked around. None of the old ladies seemed to be there, but there were women. Some were hanging around the patches, but most were just lurking in the shadows. One – a bottle blonde, who'd squeezed herself into a pair of Daisy Dukes – looked up and wandered over to where she was standing. “You lost?” She looked her up and down and sniggered. “You better turn around and get outta here. The guys will eat a sweet little thing like you alive.”

“No, I'm not lost.” Emma smiled. “And I'm sure I'll be fine. My guy will take good care of me.” Her eyes fell on Deke, sitting at the bar with a stupid grin on his face. “So if you'd excuse me. I don't like to keep him waiting.”

As she tried to pass, the woman grabbed her arm. “Let me give you a little heads up before you go making a fool of yourself. Jus' cuz you got picked up in a bar somewhere, don't mean you'll be welcome here. You can't jus' walk in off the street.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Deke get to his feet, and she gave him a tiny shake of her head. She had this; he didn't need to jump in and protect her. “Oh it's fine. While I appreciate your advice, I was invited, and I'd move my hand if I were you. Samson's a sweetie, but he can get a little overprotective sometimes.”

Blondie blanched. “You're Samson's?” She looked over to where he was watching them intently. “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize.”

“No reason why you should.” She smiled. “Now I really must go.”

“Hey.” She allowed him to pull her into his arms. “So where's my tequila?”

Grinning, he nodded to the prospect. “You heard the lady, grunt. Rack 'em up.”

“I have my car, Deke. I can't get drunk. And before you say anything, I'm not crashing here.”

“
If we're both too shitfaced to drive, the prospect will run us home.” He grinned. “Stop thinking, and get drinking, woman.”

He was buzzing, Emma could feel it. Whatever they had been doing had left him on a high. Laughing, she picked up the shot glass. “Okay then. Let’s party.”

She was having fun! In the clubhouse! Who'd have thought it? True, she was a little drunk, but it felt like forever since she and Deke had just kicked back and really enjoyed themselves. “Deke, I really need to pee.”

“So go. What's stopping you?”

“
The toilet... It's yucky.”

“
Yucky? Fuck, I'm shacked up with a woman who says yucky.” He grabbed her chin and kissed her, then turned to the prospect. “Why are you still here? Go clean the john, so my woman can take a piss.”

“
Deke! Don't be mean. Why are you so mean to him?”

“
He's a prospect. When – if – he gets his top rocker, he will be treated with respect. Until then, if he gets told to jump, he asks how high. You think the john is 'yucky' he can clean it.” He turned to the kid, who was shuffling awkwardly behind the bar. “Right?”

“
Yes, boss.” He put down the cloth and started to move from behind the bar.

“
And make it quick. She needs to go now.”

The prospect had done a decent job, and while it wasn't exactly spotless, at least it smelled better. Emma tottered from the restroom and looked around. Deke had moved from his perch and, she panicked momentarily until her eyes fell on him and Tiny at the pool table.

He finished racking up the balls and turned as she touched his back. “You gonna watch me beat his ass?”

“
Sure. I didn't know you could play pool.” It sounded dumb that they could have been together for so long and she didn't know something like that, but she could count on one hand the times they'd been in a bar together. “I'll sit over there.” She pointed to a battered leather sofa. “I can admire your ass when you bend over the table.”

Tiny rolled his eyes. “You gonna admire my ass too?”

“Nah. I've only got eyes for my man.” She grinned. “Cuz he's gorgeous.”

“
Shit, I think I need to puke.”

Despite Tiny's words, Emma got the impression she'd passed some sort of test. She wandered over to the sofa and watched as they began to play. There was a dressing on Tiny's arm, and Deke seemed to be limping a little, but neither man seemed to notice and both seemed in high spirits. She had no idea where or how they'd acquired their injuries, but Emma guessed whatever they'd been doing had gone according to plan. “You gonna play the winner, girl?” Tiny sank the eight ball and straightened up.

“Best not. Wouldn't want to humiliate you.”

“
If you're gonna talk the talk.... “ He grinned.

Deke sank – a little too gratefully for her liking – onto the sofa and stretched out his leg. “Go kick his ass, baby girl. The family honor is a stake.” He frowned. “You can play, right?”

“It's been a long time. But yeah, I can play.” She'd been pretty good as a kid – her brothers had had a table in the den – and while Tiny had beaten her easily, she'd managed to sink a few balls. She shrugged at his smirk. “I'm a little rusty.”

“
Want another?” He began to rack the balls up again.

She looked over to Deke, who nodded his approval. “Sure, why not.”

~ oOo ~

Just when he thought she couldn't get more perfect, his little witch would
surprise him again.

For the last hour Deke had been happy to sit back and watch as Emma and Tiny played. His reasons for this were twofold: he hated the look of concern that crossed her face when she saw him limping and – more importantly – she was having fun.

She squinted as she lined up a tricky shot, then, as it went wide, cannoned off another ball, bounced off the opposite cushion and dropped into the pocket, whooped and danced a little before looking up at his brother's smirk. “I meant to do that.”

“
Sure you did.” Tiny laughed as she missed the next shot. “Luck ain't a substitute for skill, you know.”

“
I have skill, it's just blunted by tequila.” She stuck out her bottom lip. “It wouldn't kill you to throw the game now and again.”

“
Nah. Don't want to patronize ya. Maybe you should play your ol' man. He's easy to beat.”

Deke laughed and shook his head. “I can't take the chance, bro. If by some miracle she beats me, I'll never hear the last of it.”

Emma threw herself down on the sofa and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Scared, huh?”

“
Terrified. You're insufferable now.”

“
I'm not.” She scowled. “I'm adorable.”

She was. He ran his fingers through her curls. “You'll do.”

“You'll do, too.” She moved closer, her body pressing up against his. “Can we go home now? I'm feeling kinda horny.”

“
Sure, baby girl. You sober enough to stay on the bike?”

She grinned and nodded. “I'll hold on tight.”

~ oOo ~

Boredom was a new experience for Emma. Trapped in a strange limbo, she swung from twitchy irritability to lethargy and back again. She didn't want to paint, the tiny apartment was spotlessly clean, even baking – something she always loved – held no appeal.

Deke had been out of town for three days, doing what she wasn't sure, but she guessed it was linked to the recent shootings that had been all over the news. As usual, when she'd asked he'd been evasive, but she knew he was involved, and she knew that there would be consequences. Fuck. Scared and bored. Not a good combination.

Sick of staring at the blank walls or daytime TV, she pulled on her jacket. Maybe she should check out some local galleries or visit a museum or something.

For hours she wandered around the Museum of Art, then visited a couple of small galleries and even spoke to the proprietor of one and agreed to email samples of her work. Normally she'd have enjoyed an afternoon of looking at the installations, but today she struggled to summon any enthusiasm, and even as she sat people watching in a cute little bistro, all she could think about was what Deke was riding into. With a sigh, she finished her coffee and walked back towards her car.

The sound of a Harley approaching stopped her in her tracks and she turned as the bike passed. She recognized the rider – Barney, the sergeant at arms – but he didn't acknowledge her, and she guessed he either didn't remember her or was too intent on the road ahead. He pulled over just ahead of her and, dismounting, disappeared down a narrow alleyway between two stores. Vaguely, she wondered whether he was doing something for the club, but she figured whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her, and she continued her walk to the car.

~ oOo ~

Samson had never liked Bay View. The town was too small – too close knit – everyone knew everyone else's business, and the chapter was no different. As far as he was concerned, Vince, the President, had too much power, not only within the chapter but in the club itself, and right now he was asserting it. “I'm sorry, brother. I get that you think you're spreading yourself too thin, but splitting the nomad chapter ain't the answer. I need you at the reins.”

“And what about what I need, Vince? I've been doing this for over twenty years, I ain't getting any younger an' I wanna start laying down some roots. I got some business out east for a while, but after that, I either take the northwest and someone else the south, or I give up this.” He tapped the President patch. “And patch in at Seattle.”

“
You trying to force my hand, Samson?” Vince leaned forward.