Split - Coffin Nails MC (Contemporary New Adult Erotic Dark Romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 7) (25 page)

“I’ll live.” Hunter sighed, looking into
the mirror above the sink. “At least I’ve got all my teeth, right?”

“And nothing’s broken,” suggested Asty,
kissing his naked skin.

“Exactly.” He slowly turned around and
kissed her. “I’m so sorry I had to do it like this, Asty. If I could think of
another way, I would have done it differently.”

She put her hands on his chest, watching
him intently. “I know. I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

“Are you okay with what Priest said?”
Hunter pulled the hem of her dress up until he got it off her. “He did say he’ll
give you some things to read too, if you want to explore more and make up your
own mind.”

Asty nodded. She’d been so overcome by
grief that she stopped taking into consideration facts that were readily
available. It was a hard realization about herself, but maybe it could prevent
something like this from happening again in the future? “I will, but the fact
that my mother was only writing down her delusions doesn’t mean that all my
beliefs are false. I need to give this more thought,” she said and opened her
bra, freeing her heavy breasts out of its confines. Her bust had never been
very big, and couldn’t be called huge now either, but there was definitely a
change in its volume and her areolas were bigger.

Despite his hands being bandaged like a
mummy’s, Hunter still reached to touch her breasts. It felt like being touched
by someone with weird gloves on.

“I know. And even though I am currently
drunk, staring at your tits, and mesmerized, I am not just nodding, I’m really
listening.”

Asty arched an eyebrow at him and gently
unzipped his pants before pushing them down along with the boxer shorts. “I
wish I’d known about Mom. She was so normal toward me that it didn’t occur to
me she could be ill.”

Hunter pulled Asty into a hug and kissed
the top of her head. “I can see how she didn’t want you to worry …”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” she said and
pulled an elastic band out of her hair before getting to her feet and gathering
Hunter’s mane at the back of his head. He needed that band much more than she
did.

“Thanks. How about you join me in the bath?
I’m aching all over, and with my hands like this, I can’t really wash …” He
gave her a kiss and turned to the half-filled bathtub, stepping out of his
clothes.

Asty tossed away her underwear and held on
to his arm as he stepped into the water. “Sure, I can be your slave for the
night.”

“That sounds really shady, considering
you’re carrying my baby.” He grinned from beneath the bruises and slowly got
into the warm water. “That’s better.”

Asty kneeled between his legs and poured
some soap into her hand before massaging it into his chest. She was silent for
a few seconds, letting her mind wander through possibilities that ended up
never happening. “If we didn’t have this baby, do you think we would have ended
up dating after all?” she asked in the end.

Hunter looked at her for a long moment. “It
might have taken longer, but I’d definitely make the move at some point. Your
dad wouldn’t stop me. You’re exactly my type.”

Asty let out a long breath and leaned
against Hunter’s chest, curling up to him gently, not to press on any wounds or
bruises. “You’re my type too,” she said, searching his eyes for reaction.

“I wish I could go to that reunion and show
off my satanic future bride, but with the mayhem on my face, it’s not gonna
happen after all.”

Asty looked back at him, deflated. She knew
just how much he wanted to share the news with his family and how much he
secretly wanted to just see them again. And Asty wanted to meet them too. It
was where Hunter came from, and she wanted to know all there was to know about
him. And there had to be
something
she could do. “Hunter ... maybe it
can still happen? I mean ... I’m a makeup artist.”

Hunter frowned. “Come on … I’m not going
there, after all these years, wearing sunglasses and concealer. I’m not an
actor after a nose job.”

Asty chewed on her lip when an idea
brightened up her mind like a supernova. “What about corpsepaint?”

Asty

Asty relaxed in the passenger seat of her dad’s
car. He lent it to them for the drive to Hunter’s hometown, about an hour
outside of Detroit. Now that her belly was starting to seriously gain volume,
it wasn’t comfortable to be on a bike, and it was a bit more risky than sitting
inside a car

Hunter was alternating between silence and
bouts of talking about his childhood. He really was trying hard not to appear
nervous, but she could see he was. It wasn’t hard to guess why—he hadn’t seen
anyone from his immediate family for ten years, but she would be there for him,
support him, and prove to everyone who doubted him that he grew up into someone
really amazing. He looked hot in his all black outfit of a long sleeve worn
underneath the club vest, well-fitting jeans, and heavy boots. Whenever the big
studs of his belt caught light, she couldn’t help but imagine pulling him
closer by that thick piece of leather. And there was the corpsepaint,
purposefully messy-looking, with black and grey streaks spreading out from his
eyes. His lips were matte, and the gradient of color made them look masculine
and demonic. No one would see the bruises left by Tooth and Dad, which
developed into the whole autumn palette of colors, now hidden underneath the
thick mask she had layered on so it would crack, like the skin of a dried-out
vampire.

And since Hunter wanted to show her off,
she dropped her usual pregnancy outfit, the baby doll dress, in favor of a
fitted mini dress that emphasized her bump. She wore it with a long, thin
jacket with a rich lacy train in the back. Her lips were black to match
Hunter’s, and the bright violet she had applied to her eyes made them pop. She
looked just like the daughter-in-law she imagined Hunter’s parents would never
want for their son.

They parked in the street alongside many
other cars, and when Hunter got out, he ran around the front of the car to open
the door for her. “Ready?”

Asty gripped his hand and dragged her body
out of the car, looking at the white house with two floors, a tidy lawn, and
even a tree that held a swing in front of it. A warm glow shone through the
curtains as she squeezed Hunter’s fingers. “Of course. You?”

Hunted nodded with a wicked grin and
grabbed her hand. She could already sense what she got herself into when they
passed a large white statue of the Virgin Mary in the garden.

“Do they have Sunday school here, or
something?” she asked, perplexed.

Hunter looked to the statue as if he’d seen
it for the first time. “Oh, that. Nah, they just like everyone to know. I think
they also hope it scares away all those door-to-door preachers who advertise a
different brand of religion.”

Asty leaned against him underneath the
woolen cape she had draped over herself for the trip. “Do they know you’re
bringing me?”

Hunter shrugged and rang the doorbell. “The
invitation did say ‘plus one.’ Though I have brought two.” He smiled and
touched her belly.

Asty kissed him gently and petted his hand,
pressing it a bit harder against her stomach. “Little party crasher.”

“He’s learning from the best already.”
Hunter said as the door opened and a fragile looking petite older lady looked
at them both in stunned silence. “It’s me, Mom. Hunter? Your oldest son?”

She adjusted her glasses and squinted,
looking between Asty and him. “What is that? What did you do to your face?” she
asked, not inviting them in yet. Asty would have let herself in, but Hunter’s
mother was blocking the door.

“The invitation did say ‘dress your best,’”
Hunter said, and with each moment, his mother’s eyes grew wider. “And I brought
my fiancée. Astaroth, this is my mother, Susan.”

Asty reached out her hand, decorated with
long, black, pointy nails. “Nice to meet you.

Hunter’s mother let her shake her hand,
getting paler by the second. And she still wasn’t inviting them in. “And ...
um, what’s her real name?”

“Astaroth. My friends call me Asty,”
offered Asty, hoping it would ease the woman’s mind.

“You did send an invitation …” Hunter
raised his eyebrows, though it wasn’t that visible under the makeup.

Susan hesitated. “Y-yes. Why don’t you come
in?” she said stiffly, and Asty could swear it looked as if she were afraid
they were vampires and she had now lost her only protection.

The house was very warm inside, so Asty
quickly pulled off her cape and hung it on a hook by the door, staying only in
the thin jacket. She carefully propped herself by the wall and raised her feet
to unzip the boots. When she looked up, she realized Hunter’s mother must have
noticed her shape, as she stared at her in silence before glancing at Hunter.

“Oh, now I see why the sudden engagement ...”

Hunter stroked Asty’s back and didn’t seem
to be phased by his mother’s scathing remark. “You mean that she’s so beautiful
that I needed to grab her quick before anyone else did?”

Susan gave him a glare. “Yes, something
like that.”

Asty exhaled. She didn’t want to be hurt by
the comment, even though it did get to her. But it was all right. She and
Hunter were happy now, and that was all that mattered. “Hunter told me so much
about you. I heard you make the best banana bread in the world,” she tried.

“Oh, really?” Susan looked at Hunter and
shook her head. “Did he tell you how he once ate the whole thing instead of
sharing it with his siblings?”

Hunter shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a
greedy bastar—”

“Language!” his mother hissed at him, and
Hunter rolled his eyes. “You will at least do this much for me. Coming here,
unmarried, with a pregnant girlfriend, painted all over your face like you are
the devil himself. You do everything to spite me. The whole family is here,
Father Peter is here, and most of all”—she pointed to the ceiling—“there is God
in this house. So watch your language if you want to stay under my roof even
for a few hours. I’m only having you here because it’s a Christian thing to be hospitable.”
She took a deep breath and straightened up. “You’ve grown,” she said flatly.

Asty kept quiet, not wanting to make her
future mother-in-law hate her even more than she already did, but she couldn’t
believe that this word vomit was all Susan had to say to her son after not
seeing him for ten years. Was she that coldhearted? Was she secretly a psycho?
Asty knew some religious people, and many of them were lovely, but this was
just ridiculous.

Hunter squeezed Asty’s hand. “Do you want
me to be here, or not? Because I can go.”

Susan pursed her lips. “Stay. Just go and
wash all that silliness off your face.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Hunter shrugged. “Fine.”

Asty reached into her big bag and pulled
out the cake they had picked up on the way. “And that’s our small contribution
to the party. Do you need any help?” she asked, just to be courteous. Being
alone with Hunter’s mother was the last thing she wanted.

Susan’s face brightened up slightly, and
she took the cake with a deep sigh. “Thank you. No, no, it’s fine. Make
yourself at home,” she said, but it sounded more like a phrase than an actual
invitation. “How’s your uncle doing?”

Hunter reached up to his face, but then his
hand stilled in front of it, and he put it back down. “He’s dead.”

Hunter’s mother stalled, as if looking for
the right words. “I always told you that man would not lead a long life.”

“He didn’t
die
because he stopped
going to church, Mom.”

“I know, I know, but actions have
consequences.”

Two young children peeked out from behind
the door down the corridor with their eyes wide, and Asty waved at them.

“Are those your siblings?” she asked
Hunter, but Susan looked back and shook her head.

“No, they are the grandchildren of my
sister.” Her gaze swept over Asty’s bump, and she sighed. “When Aaron got
married, I thought he would be the first one to give us grandchildren, but he
and his wife seem more interested in dragging themselves around South America
than thinking about what’s important in life.”

Asty knew Aaron was the name of Hunter’s
younger brother, but she didn’t know why he’d choose to have kids so young if
he still wanted to travel.

“Oh, Aaron’s not here?” Hunter asked and
glanced at some of the family photos on the walls.

“No, he seems all too busy these days.” She
finally suggested they go to the living room, so they followed. “When are you
two planning to get married?”

“Marriage? Do I hear marriage?” A
forty-something man in a cleric’s collar, who was bound to be Father Peter,
came toward them with a wide smile that faltered as soon as he got closer. “Who
do we have here?”

Susan’s cheeks were getting red. “Hunter
decided to grace us with his presence for the first time in years. And this is
Asty, his fiancée.” Asty was guessing she only used the nickname version of her
name so she wouldn’t have to say the name of a demon out loud.

A slim man in a blue sweater, around the
age of Asty’s Dad, gravitated toward them and put his hand on Susan’s back. His
eyes alternated between her and Hunter. “Good to finally see you,” he said and
gave Hunter a weird pat on the shoulder.

Hunter kneaded Asty’s hand in his. “Hi,
Dad. This is my fiancée,” he said, gesturing at Asty, who held out her hand,
somewhat shocked this sparse greeting was all Hunter was getting from his
estranged parents.

The man gave Asty a tight smile and
squeezed her hand. “Ah, so we might be family soon. I’m Mark.”

Might be family?
Clearly, both Mark and Susan were horribly passive-aggressive
people, but Asty tried not to let it get to her. She tried to have some kind of
exchange with her future father-in-law, but Mark seemed even less interested
than Susan and quickly returned to his place at the sofa, where he was talking
with another man his age with whom he shared similar features.

With his father gone, Hunter started a
brief conversation with the priest, and Asty looked around the cozy yet large
living room. Heat radiated off the fireplace, which was surrounded by shelves
filled with books and porcelain figurines, some of which seemed to portray
religious scenes. But while the room was spacious, there wasn’t that much floor
left bare with three puffy sofas and two armchairs gathered around a coffee
table that doubled as a chest of drawers. The beige walls were livened up by a
few potted plants on narrow shelves and a whole swarm of pastel-colored images
Asty reckoned were depictions of
Bible
scenes. It took her a few moments
to realize they were commemorating religious milestones, the First Communion
and Confirmation. Even her two Catholic friends from school didn’t have them so
proudly displayed in their homes. Sadly, no sign of Hunter’s photos or
diplomas. As if they’d erased him from existence.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed a
young, handsome man come up to Hunter, and they smiled at each other, at first
cautiously, but then Hunter descended on the guy with a bear hug.

The teenager grinned, yelping when Hunter
lifted him off his feet. “I grew up so much, and you still look like a giant,”
he said with a chuckle, but as soon as he was back on the floor, his green eyes
turned to Asty. His face was much softer than Hunter’s, but it could be just
the age difference, as there was a distinct resemblance between them, all the
way from the shape of the nose to the color of his short, wavy hair.

“Hi, I’m David,” he said, and his hand
stretched out shyly, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should be the one offering
it first.

Asty gave him a brilliant smile and
squeezed his hand. “Asty. You’re Hunter’s younger brother?”

David gave a nervous chuckle. “Yes, the
youngest brother. And you’re pregnant? That is so amazing!” But then he stalled
and went pale. “You are pregnant, right?”

Asty made a serious face, just to tease
him, but she couldn’t keep it very long. “Yes, I’m in my fifth month now. At
least
you
are happy about it,” she added quietly, briefly glancing at
Hunter’s dad discussing something with Father Peter in the far corner.

Hunter put an arm over Asty’s shoulders.
“Back off, she’s mine.” He laughed and poked David’s collarbone. It was so nice
to see him so at ease with his sibling after all these years he’d been away
from home. “You got a girlfriend? Did Dad give you the talk about what happens
when you get married?”

David laughed nervously. “N-no. I guess
I’ve got time …”

Asty grinned and leaned against Hunter. “I
bet that what he wants to say is that he doesn’t need to get married for that.”

David scratched his head. “I might follow
in my older brother’s footsteps,” he whispered.

“Sex before marriage?” Hunter shook his
head. “I am appalled,” he said with a straight face but then tousled David’s
hair. “Just messin’ with you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just … I didn’t even
know if I’d ever see you again. Mom wouldn’t tell me where you live.”

“Why? You wanna become a biker?” Hunter
snorted.