Forged: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (6 page)

Tilly’s hand reaches between us wrapping around the base of my cock, and coaxes the last few drops out of me. That’s it, I’m fucking spent. Collapsing heavily against her, I realize the position I’ve got her in has to be uncomfortable, but she doesn’t say a word. I allow myself revel in the fact she’s letting me hold her for a few minutes more, but that doesn’t last long much to my disappointment.

Unlocking her feet from behind my back and sliding her legs to the floor Tilly redresses quickly, and silently. She doesn’t spare a glance in my direction, and even though I assumed this would be the case it doesn’t stop it from hurting any less. Before she can dismiss me entirely I manage to reach my hand out and grab her wrist gently.

“Tilly, look at me for fuck’s sake.” Looking from my hand on her arm to my face and then back again, she decides to focus on a spot just over my shoulder, which only further pisses me off. “No, don’t look at the wall, look at me, babe. Only at me.”

With a fire she only possess when she’s well and truly pissed, Tilly glares at me. Anger glittering in her magnificently pissed off eyes.

“What? What do you want, Saint? You asked me to fuck you once more for old-times’ sake, I did, so what more can you possibly want?”

If the words coming out of her mouth weren’t so vicious I’d say Tilly is fucking sexy when she’s angry. Who am I kidding? It doesn’t matter what she’s spitting at me, she’s still fucking phenomenal when she’s pissed off.

“I want you to look me in the eyes after what we just did, and still tell me it’s over between us.” Narrowing my eyes I say, “I want you to feel the ache between your thighs, the way your pussy’s contracting with aftershocks from me making you come so hard that your toes curled, and tell me we’re finished.”

Gathering her hair over one shoulder gripping it like a life-line, she replies without hesitation.

“Fuck you, Saint. Don’t try using your bullshit guilt trips and manipulations with me, because it’s not going to work this time. You had your chance. Scratch that, you’ve had a million chances to try and fix what was broken between us, but you didn’t. And now that you’re faced with losing us you pick now to give it your all? I don’t fucking think so. Regardless of what just happened here,” she says gesturing wildly between us, “it doesn’t change a damn thing. You’re still the father of a little boy that isn’t ours, and I still have to share you with a woman that isn’t one of our daughters. Case and point, where are you going after you leave here? Before going on the run that is.”

Note to every poor bastard out there that wants to try pleading the fifth when in a situation like this; it doesn’t work, so don’t bother trying. Tilly knows the answer to her question, and she knows I can’t talk my way out of it. It was the perfect thing to ask to illustrate her point.

Every time I go out on a run for the club I go and see Tucker first, and Tilly knows it. Sometimes it’s just to drop past the nursery his mother has him in three days a week, and sometimes it’s to the house he shares with her, but without fail I always stop and see him before I go.

Deep down I know Tilly doesn’t hold anything against, Tucker, that’s not what this is about. Tilly’s the most caring, compassionate person I know, and just because Tucker was born into this clusterfuck we’re all involved in, it doesn’t make him any less innocent in her eyes. If anything, he’s the reason she’s let this shit go on for as long as it has. She would never ask me to stop seeing him and never ask me to deny my child, but his very existence has put an unimaginable strain on our relationship.

Taking my silence as her answer, Tilly brushes a stray tear from her eye pinning me with a glacial stare. One that’s devoid of all emotion except for disgust.

“Exactly, Saint. Nothing’s changed, and nothing ever will. Just because I fucked you as one last hoorah doesn’t mean all of a sudden all’s forgiven and everything miraculously goes back to the way it was. You need to accept that this was the end of us, just like you knew it would be when you asked me for this.”

“Fucking hell, Tilly. Tucker’s my kid just as much as the girls are,” my tone is harsher than I intend and at her strangled gasp I work hard to soften it, but it isn’t easy. I’m furious that she’s writing off what we just did together less than ten minutes ago. And I’m fucking pissed she’s backing me into a corner. One there’s no way out of. “You know it’s true, babe. Tucker is as much mine as the girls are. I can’t just take off without saying goodbye to him. He’s too young to understand why I haven’t come to see him for days, and on the off chance something happened to me it’d be fucking unfair of me to say goodbye to the girls and not him.”

“I didn’t ask you stay away from Tucker, quite the opposite, Saint. Now you’ll have all the time in the world to spend with him seeing as you won’t be here,” she replies waspishly bringing the conversation full circle.

“So that’s it is it? We fucked, now I’m supposed to sign those useless fucking papers, which are exactly that, useless. Tilly you’ve gotta know, that not even a divorce stamped by a judge will make you any less mine. And what then? After it’s all said and done I walk away like we never happened? That’s what you really want?” I say raising my eyebrow in question.

“None of this is what I wanted, but it’s the hand of cards I’ve been dealt, and now I’ve got to deal with it, finally. If you think I believed for a second we would be here now when we got together twelve years ago you’re sorely mistaken, because I didn’t. I thought what we had would last a lifetime, maybe more. But it didn’t, and because it didn’t this needs to be done for both our sakes. There’s no use drawing this out and making it harder on both of us, or the girls. We have the choice whether we make this easy or not, but aside from that this is done.” Her tears are free flowing now and I’d do anything to take her in my arms and comfort her, but that’s not what she wants.

She’s right about one thing though. How hard we make this is up to us. If it were up to me, if it wasn’t going to hurt anyone other than me and Tilly, I’d make this as difficult as fucking possible. I’d fight her every step of the way, but we aren’t the only ones we have to consider here. We have the girls to worry about too, just like she said, and the last thing I want to do is make their lives any worse than I already have.

“How do we do this, Tilly? I mean, how the fuck do we separate and still raise our girls together?”

Sighing she leans against the dresser, propping her hip on the side using it to hold herself upright.

“I don’t know, Saint. I suppose we wait and see. You can come and visit with the girls whenever you want, and I hope you will. I would never keep them from you, and I wouldn’t do that to them either. I only have one stipulation and that is, if you move in with Stacey the girls don’t come to see you there. It’s going to be hard enough for them that you’re gone, the last thing I want them to believe is that you’ve left us for her. I don’t want them to think they were at fault for any of this, or that they are being replaced, so for now I think it’s best you see them here or take them out places.”

It’s a fair request and one I wouldn’t hesitate in agreeing to if I actually considered moving in with Stacey as an option. However, seeing as I’d rather cut off my left nut with a blunt spoon than live with that bitch, it’s never going to be a concern. For her or the girls.

“I’m not walking out of my house, and away from my wife and kids to move in with that whore, no fucking way. So you can rest easy Tilly, because that’s not something you’re going to have to worry about. I’ll stay at the clubhouse. My room’s still open there, and until all this shit is sorted I’ll be there for as long as it takes to work it out.”

Tilly makes a move to walk around me and out the door, but before she makes it another step I have her pulled tight against my body with my arms wrapped around her waist.

“If you think this means I’m giving up, you’re fucking dead wrong. I’ll move out, give you your space, do almost anything you ask of me, but I’ll never stop fighting to win you back. You know that right? You know I’ll never fucking ever let you go don’t you?”

Burying her head in my chest I almost miss her say,

“I would hope not,” but I don’t. I hear every word loud and clear, and it gives me the one thing I thought I’d lost permanently, hope.

“A relationship is like a house. If a light bulb goes out,

you don’t buy a new house. You fix the light bulb. Unless of course

that house is a lying whore. In that case you burn that fucker down,

and buy a better house with good light bulbs.”

-
                    
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It’s been two weeks since the day Saint moved out, and if I thought him being gone would get easier with time I was sorely mistaken. If anything it’s gotten harder. The girls, well Avery in particular, misses him desperately. Not a night goes by I don’t end up comforting her in her bed as she falls asleep crying, and begging me to make her daddy come home. It breaks my heart to see her so sad and hear her tiny whimpers as she tries to calm herself. She can’t comprehend why he’s not here, and I wouldn’t expect her to, she is only five after all. But hopefully in time, when she’s older, she will understand I made the only choice I could. For me and for them. But until then I just do my best to comfort her, and reassure her that while he isn’t here right now he loves her very much.

Dakota has been quieter and more introverted than usual, and as if feeding off her sisters’ energy, Nevie has too. It’s been years since Kota climbed into bed with me at night, but more often than not that’s where I find her when I wake up every morning. I don’t mind her doing it, in fact it is somewhat comforting for me too, but I can’t help thinking that if this is how badly it’s affecting her that it has her seeking out comfort in the middle of the night, how much pain is she internalizing.

Most nights Nevie is fussier to get to sleep too. It’s gotten to the point that it takes me rocking her to finally settle her into sleep. I love my little girl to pieces, she’s my baby after all, but I have to admit, the extra demands the girls are putting on my attention and the strain of the days becoming longer are quickly eating away at the last of my strength. I’d never deny them what they need to help them through this and of course I’ll give them all the support they need, but I’m quickly approaching a point where I’m finding I need some space to process everything that’s gone on myself. I’m reaching my breaking point, and I hate to think what will happen when I eventually get there.

The only bright spot during the last two weeks has been that Saint has held to his word, visiting the girls daily. He may not be here for long, sometimes only an hour at most, but it’s enough for the girls to see he’s still around, and for that I’m truly grateful. We don’t talk when he’s here. He spends as much of his short visits with the girls as he can while I go about my daily chores, and try my best to avoid him. Only once has he asked about why I won’t interact with him and the girls when he comes over, and after the way that conversation ended I don’t think he’ll be asking again any time soon.

I was in the kitchen when he came in just before he left after that days visit. My back was to the dining room and my earbuds were in, so when I felt two huge arms band around me it caused me to jump at least foot, and squeal at the top of my lungs. Not my finest moment, an extremely embarrassing one actually, when you consider my hands were immersed in dish water which I promptly flung everywhere, drenching the front of my shirt in the process.

The deep chuckle behind me after I removed my earbuds were removed made me want to smack the smirk right off his beautiful face, but I resisted. Just barely but I did.

“You know how much I love watching you shake your sweet ass for me, babe, but with just you and the girls in the house you should be a bit more aware of what’s going on around you, don’t you think?”

The warning in his tone isn’t overshadowed by the gentleness of his hands on my hips. However the insinuation that I’m not doing my job looking out for our girls isn’t lost on me, which only makes me seethe with anger. How dare he pass judgement on me! It’s not his place anymore. He made it very clear by his actions that he wasn’t part of our family unit when he made his choice, and he did it resolutely. Using my ass to give him a good hard shove, I tear off my dishwashing gloves tossing them carelessly on the counter. Spinning on him, I suck in a lungful of air as I take in all the beauty that is, Saint.

His hair is cropped tightly to his head again, all the gorgeous, wavy locks long gone. His eyes are tired; the dark rings underneath them telling me he’s been sleeping about as well as I have. It’s only been fourteen days, five hours, and seventeen minutes since I officially called it quits, but I can tell he’s felt every last one of them. Saint’s muscles test the strength of the faded black Chasers T-shirt he’s wearing. It’s stretched it to its limits displaying every tight, well-defined plane beneath.

My eyes travel down his body taking in the dark denim jeans encasing his thickly muscled thighs, the black belt with Devil’s Spawn buckle emphasizing his narrow waist, and the scuffed motorcycle boots covering his huge feet. I know it’s cliché but the rumors are true, men with big feet tend to have equally large cocks. I should know, I have first-hand experience with one of those men and he’s looking right at me. Saint’s lip curls at the corner and I just know I’ve been busted checking him out. What can I say, he’s too sexy not to but that doesn’t mean I’ll admit it to anyone.

Reminding myself that I’m pissed at the pushy bastard, I square my shoulders and pin him with a nasty glare.

“Thanks for the reminder, but I’m well aware it’s just us. As hard as it is to believe, Saint, not everyone’s out to get you. The girls and I are perfectly safe here. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ve got stuff to do so you can see yourself out when you’re ready.”

“Not so fast, Tilly,” he growls. “I want to know why you’re avoiding me when I’m here. As soon as I walk in the room you walk right back out, what the fuck is up with that?”

Crossing my arms across my chest, I think about how best to answer him.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I retort snidely. “Maybe because you’re here to spend time with your children not me.” That’s not the whole truth, but I doubt he wants to hear the rest.

Mirroring my stance by folding his own huge arms across his broad chest, he cocks an eyebrow looking far too amused for my liking.

“Is that right? Who said I can’t do both?”

Yeah, and we know how that will end. Spending time with him when everything is still so fresh is
not
a good idea. We could barely be in the same room before, but now, even being in the same house is a risk seeing as tensions are running higher than ever.

“I said, that’s who. I don’t want to be a bitch, but I’d rather kick you in the balls than spend time I don’t have to with you at the moment. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel differently, but if I do you’ll be the first to know.”

I hate having to hurt him, and looking at the crestfallen expression on his face I know I’ve done just that. But what did he expect? That he’d start coming over and we’d play happy families like nothing ever happened? Yeah, not going to happen buddy.

“So, what? I keep coming over, you disappear, and I leave like a thief in the night? That’s what you’re asking of me, right, because I just wanna make sure I’ve got this shit straight in my head, Tilly?”

The man is infuriating. Saint knows I don’t say anything I don’t mean, which can only mean one thing; he’s spoiling for a fight. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s provoked an argument with me in order to relieve some tension, but I’m not biting this time. No way.

“The deal was you spend time with the girls so they know you’re still here for them, Saint. Nowhere in that did I agree I’d be part of it. I’m not needed for you to visit with them, and to be honest, it would probably only make it unpleasant for them. Us being at each other’s throats and all.”

Surely he can see that. The man might be dense when it comes to some things, but surely he can understand the extra stress is the last thing our girls need. Not to mention, we don’t need the added drama either.

“Well, maybe we need to renegotiate the fucking deal then,” he spits angrily.

“Not so fast. What’s this really about? Why is it all of a sudden important for me to be around when you’re here?” I enquire gently. Being nice to him while he got in one of his rages seemed to work to calm the beast down significantly quicker than entertaining one of his moods. He has great difficulty staying mad for long when I’m being sweet to him.

“Why do you think it’s about anything else? Why can’t it just be about the fact my wife refuses to speak to me, and I’m fucking over being ignored?” I flinch at the harsh tone he uses. But it’s not his tone that’s the most upsetting. It’s him saying that I’m ignoring him that annoys me the most.

“I’m ignoring you? You’re fucking kidding, right?” I screech. The fact our girls are in the next room doesn’t factor in when I start yelling at him. “Years, Saint. Years you ignored me, and them for that matter. We came second, third, shit, I don’t even know where we came on your priority list we were ranked that low. It was always all about you. Where you needed to go. What you had to do. When you had to be there. It never even crossed your mind there were four people left waiting and wondering where you were, and if it did it didn’t make a difference to you. So don’t bullshit me and say this temper tantrum is all because your feeling overlooked. I know you better than that, and you’d do well to remember that.”

Saint takes a step forward placing his hands on the breakfast bar that separates us, and leans forward trying to intimidate me into backing down. It won’t work, but if it makes him feel better to try then he can have at it.

“You’re right. There’s more to it, but you know what?” He asks to which I shake my head no. “No matter what you think you were never second, third, fourth, or anywhere other than number one on my list of priorities, Tilly. I get that you felt like you were and it’s my fault for not making it clearer how much I love you and our kids, but that doesn’t change the fact you were always first.” Shaking his head sadly he looks determined when he adds, “I found out some shit today that we’re going to need to talk about. Important shit. You’re going to need to take a break from shutting me out long enough to make that happen, babe, because what we need to discuss only you’ve got the answers to.”

I’m curious, I won’t lie. But I have no idea what I could have the answers to that he couldn’t get elsewhere. I mean, Saint has a knack for finding out whatever he wants to know whenever he wants to know it. I’m not sure how he does it and I’d be willing to bet most of the time it’s not legal, but that’s never stopped him before. Begging the question, what could I possibly help him with?

“I think we’ve done all the talking we need to for the time being, Saint. Let the dust settle for a while, and if you still want to talk further down the track we can work something out then,” I reply hoping he’ll agree.

I should have noticed something was wrong when Saint straightened to his full height, clenched his fists at his sides, and started grinding his teeth. I wish I’d listened to him when he said I needed to pay more attention to my surroundings, because if I had, I would have felt the tension in the room escalate, and seen the fury rolling off him in waves.

“Nice try, but that’s not going to cut it this time,” he mutters dryly. “The name, Elias mean anything to you?” He accuses through gritted teeth.

I can’t answer him, because as the last sound leaves his lips my world goes black.