Hiding in Plain Sight (32 page)

There was quiet as the other two men took in all that Brand had said and all that wasn't said but they'd seen.

"You're shittin' yourself she's gonna leave," Dare surmised, surprise ringing in his voice at the thought of the large, confident biker afraid.

Brand could only nod, his eyes on his boots.

"Swear to god, man.  If I'd had me some of what I saw today, I'd be shittin' myself, too."  Brand dragged his eyes up to the younger man, finding complete and total honesty in his face.  "What she gave you doesn't grow on trees."

"I asked you before if it was real, and I now I get your answer.  It wasn't but now it is, right?"  Trey recapped.  "Guess you'll find out when you tell her."

"Yes," Brand agreed, though his heart was at his knees at the thought.

 There was silence as the three men thought about what to do.

"Okay, here's how it goes.  You bring Reese back here, Dare'll bring Mel and I'll round up another Hell Honey to give your girl some support.  We'll tell both of them at the same time and kill two birds with one stone," Trey declared with a sly smile.  "We'll get Reese involved in getting Melvin and family set up, she'll see you as a knight in shining and all will be good!"

*.*.*.*.*

I woke up from a deep, restful sleep naked underneath the worn sheets to the feel of his warm mouth on my neck.  Working my skin with gentle tongue strokes and soft nips as he called my name.  I'd never been awakened with such sweet heat.

"Hey, baby," I offered, stretching before reaching for him.  He'd started to create a hunger in me and I knew only my Brand could more than fulfill that growing need.

"You are wanted in the clubhouse," he told me, bringing those sexy greeny-yellow eyes to mine.  "Get dressed.  Then afterwards, we can go home and play."

Oh, playtime with Brand in the vast expanse of our bed sounded wonderful.  I rolled to the empty side of the mattress looking for my clothes.  He dropped them next to me as he went to the door and leaned against it.

"About last night," I started, shimmying into my underwear and hitching my bra into place.  "What happened?"

"Nothing really," came the droll reply.  "Four men who did not know their mouths from a hole in the ground.  Quickly reduced to piles of cry-babies who wet themselves when faced with Hellion justice."

I froze with one leg in my jeans at his words.  "You killed them?" I whispered, stricken at the thought of all the blood now covering the hardwood floors I'd so lovingly mopped.

"No," Brand shot back with an 'are-you-kidding' look.  "They threw a rock through one of the dining room windows and Dare duct taped them on the back patio.  They have been delivered to the police."

I sank to the mattress in relief.  "That's good.  Except about the window."

"All will be well at our home, draga," he assured me.  He hadn't called me that in more than a few days now.  Lately it had been 'wife', 'my wife', 'my love' and 'my beauty' which was the one I was especially fond of.  The change in endearments scared me.

"Butch and Mosh were sent to board up the broken window.  Outside of that, our home is still as it was," he mumbled as I brushed out my hair.

He walked me to the door of the saloon which was thankfully empty.

"Would you like a beverage, my love?" he asked as he took a position behind the bar. 

"Brown soda, low ice," I offered back, admiring the view of my husband making me a drink from behind a bar.

The door creaked behind me as I took my first sip.

"Reesie!" came Jilly's call and for the second time in the last twenty-four hours, the little blonde made a teetering bee-line to me for a hug.

"Jilly," I offered, now knowing the routine and squeezing her back.

"You look good without all the makeup," she said, her eyes roaming over my clean face.  She tilted her head, still studying me, while her voice continued.  "Why do you gotta wear all that junk anyway?"

"Brand's idea," I offered, throwing my husband under the bus with a smile.  He did, have the grace to blush at the other woman's chiding look and words.

"You outta be fuckin' shot.  She's too pretty to wear all that shit," Jilly told him, leaning over the bar in emphasis.

"I agree," he groused.  "She is very beautiful, both with and without the makeup."

"Damn fucking straight," Dare called from the doorway leading in a man who caught and held my eye. 

A man that I knew. 

Someone who used to be one of the guards at Louie's place. 

Without a second thought, I was up and over the bar, climbing it like one of those fake mountain things people do for fun before hiding behind my Brand.

Shit, shit,
shit
. 

The words my mind chanted were in complete agreement with the fast beats of my heart. 

"He's one of them, baby," I moaned into Brand's back as I clutched the sides of his t-shirt.  "He's one of Louie's guys."

Brand had twisted, pulling my reluctant body around until he was at my back holding me tightly across my chest.

"As long as I have breath in my body, no one will ever hurt you again, my Reese," he whispered harshly into my ear.  It wasn't that I didn't believe him, but it was…

"I'm sorry, Reese," I heard the young man, my former guard call from across the floor.  "I'm so sorry."

Wait…what?

I took in the Deschames employee's disheveled appearance, the silver tape around his shirt sleeves and ankles as well as the rectangle of red skin around his mouth.

"I tried to protect you but I couldn't," I heard the dark haired guy say sincerely as the biker brought him closer.  "When it became impossible, I had to bail.  I'm so sorry."

"Dare, this is my wife, Reese," I heard Brand say from over my head.  His formal introduction seemed incongruous in the miasma of my need for escape.  "And you, my love, already know Melvin."

The outside door creaked again and Trey came through, striding quickly and confidently to the five of us at the bar.

"Great!  We're all here," the handsome man who was all biker, said with a hand clap that ended with a palm scrub.  "Let's get to it, shall we?"

Chapter Thirty One

"Louie dying," he heard her voice start and felt her warm breath against the skin of his chest.  "Changes everything." 

Brand didn't answer and he felt her neck stretch as she looked up at him.  They'd left only one set of the lights on in their bathroom as they'd played.  He could see her face, the light catching on her forehead, her cheekbone and the side of her nose.  Her skin glowed a shade that was almost mother of pearl in the dim lighting.  It was a face he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life.

"You don't have to…" she took another breath, swallowing before she continued.  "You don't have to protect me anymore."

He'd known it was coming, but her words, though softly said still made his body jerk at hearing them.  Brand was aware it was a discussion that was required, but he didn't think they needed to have it that night.  So he changed the subject to one that that was called for in order to prepare her.

"There is club business I must attend to tomorrow.  I will be gone most of the day.  You are welcome to stay here, or I can take you to wait with the other women at the clubhouse," he advised, giving her the choice.  He'd learned his young wife needed options.  If Reese wasn't given a selection, it was almost guaranteed he'd get the sharp side of her tongue to berate him for whatever choice he had made.

"This stuff you do for the club, is it dangerous?"  She moved her cheek back to dip where his shoulder met his arm.

"Not enough for you to worry, my wife," he hedged as he tightened the arm he had around her.

"Hmm," was her response and he felt her drag the hand from his stomach closer to her face before she stopped herself and used it to rub his chest instead.  "I think I'd prefer to be around the other girls."

"They call themselves Hell's Honeys," he corrected her with a grin.

"So with you a member, does that make me one?" Her voice was hesitant.  "A Hell Honey, I mean?"

"I am unsure.  I do not know of the women's initiations, my love. Until you, I have never brought a woman to the club," he replied, and could feel the frown on his face as he thought.  Those women could be absolute bitches, and if they tried to do anything untoward to his Reese in order for her to be a part of their group, there would be a price to pay.

"Really?"  The feel of her face against his skin moved, and he heard the smile in just that one word before her face slackened and her voice changed.  "Oh, but then, you had them to…"

He squeezed her tightly in order to make her stop talking.  "It is just you now, my Reese.  It is just you and me together."

He got a long slow caress in reply.

*.*.*.*.*

The ride in that early Sunday morning on the back of Brand's bike was awesome.  The cooler air of the night streaming over us as the sun just started to peek over the trees, changing the eastern sky behind us from pink to gold to blue.   Because it was so early, we didn't hit any traffic, not even from the church people.  Brand pulled into the forecourt of the Hellion's property and parked next to the five or so bikes lined up in the middle area, where the bar-be-que had been.

I got off first and removed my helmet looking around.  This was the quietest the club had ever been, and I wondered at why Brand needed to be here this early.  Rather than lead me to the saloon after he'd swung his leg over the big bike and stood, he just gathered me against him, his leathers creaking all the while.

"Your number one priority for today, wife, is to keep yourself safe," he murmured, his lips on my hairline.  I raised my eyes to his, uncertain what exactly he meant.

"Is there gonna be trouble?"  Even I could hear the worry in my voice.  "You gotta keep yourself safe too, you know."

I got a dimpled smile at my admonishment.

"You are worried about me?" he asked, his voice deep and rough.

"Always, baby." I hadn't even had to think about my answer. The kiss I received for it started a slow, salacious burn that began at my lips and moved southward.  His lips were magic and could make me to forget my own name, not to mention our location.

When we disconnected and I was able to make sense of our surroundings, I saw another three bikes on the other side of ours.  I didn't remember even hearing them come into the forecourt.  I saw Snake hold the door open for Jilly before Brand shifted to tuck me against his side and guide me towards the doors of the saloon.

I wasn't sure what'd be going on inside, but I was unprepared for the calm we encountered when we entered.  There was a group of men at one of the farthest tables, and I could hear the lighter female voices to my right, only undercut by Dee's rough smoky tones coming from the kitchen.

I raised my face to Brand's while cupping a hand to the back of his head.

"Be safe, my man.  I'll see you later," I mumbled as he, yet again, caught me in the snare of our lip joining.  I was starting to recognize that he made love to me with his lips as much as he did with his body when we were alone. 

I got an ass caress in answer as I turned to make my way to the women.  And, I was surprised to note, the public display of his affection didn't bother me in the least.

"Reese!" I heard him call and I turned around, but never stopped stepping even though it was backwards.  "I love you."

"As I do you, husband!" I yelled over the blaring music.  I brought my fingers to my mouth before blowing him a kiss and felt the swinging doors of the kitchen hit my back as his slight grin went to full and shining, his dimple on full display.  I pushed through the door and eyed the other women scattered around the room.  But truth be told, my mind was still on Brand and his smile.

"Namaste, bitch," Carly called from her place at the eight burner, industrial stove.

"Morning, slut," I offered back with a smile and a chin lift.

"Heard your troubles were over, pretty girl," Dee said, working a big-ass knife on a cutting board of onions.  "Glad for you, babe."

"Me, too," I responded as I pulled off my jacket and went to the sink to wash my hands.  "How can I help?"

"We're doin' a frittata, Reesie," Jilly offered with a hand clap and a bounce, although I couldn’t see that she was adding much to the breakfast production.

"Biscuits or toast?" Was my next question as I saw Carly doing a slow sauté of veggies.

"We were thinking toast but if you could do biscuits that'd be amazing," Lock offered over a shoulder from her place at the stove next to Carly.  She was squeezing out logs of sausages into a hot large cast iron skillet.

"In my fucking sleep!" I admitted loudly to be heard over the music.  "Damn, Carly, turn your fire down, girl.  You need to cook things slow and sweet!"

"That how you got Brand, pretty girl?  By keeping the fire slow and sweet?"  Dee's face held a sly smile when I caught her glance.

"Absolutely.  Us country girls know how to keep things deliberate and steady," I said, stepping in time to the music, hips rolling and fingers snapping as I went to the cabinet that held the flour and lard.  "It's called controlling the fire."

There were catcalls and even a couple of whistles as I poured a measure of flour out onto the cutting board.  This to me was 'old school', making biscuits the way Granny had done.  You made a mound of flour, then swirled your finger in its peak, creating a well.  Add dollop of lard, a couple of eggs with some baking powder, and you worked the wet into the dry with loose fingers, crumbling until the mass came together.  The real skill in light fluffy biscuits was knowing when to stop working it.

I knew the size I needed, what the hard driving men in the room would want and gently dropped the fist dimensioned rounds onto heated baking sheets.  While they were in the oven, I tackled the piles of dishes in the sink.  But it didn't feel work since the conversation between the five of us flowed so easily.

The place was filling up and the noise level was almost defining as we set up the food buffet- style on the long bar.  I hadn't noticed how many people had been at the bar- be- que but in the large space of the lounge, there had to have been over fifty people.  With a skewed ratio of more men than women.

I put our plates of food on the table in front of Brand and turned to pull another chair up to the already crowded table.  But he snagged me around my waist and pulled me into his lap without missing a beat and while reaching for his fork.  I twisted until I was facing the table but couldn't resist a little wiggle against the lump growing under my butt.

"No teasing, wife," he breathed in my ear and I felt my face flush.  I glanced around to see if anyone else had caught me as I spread my napkin across my lap.

"This is my wife, Reese," I heard him announce to the table.  I got a nod from the big man who Dee was fussing over.  And by fussing, I mean fiddling with his grayed ponytail, straightening his heavy flannel shirt that was over a thermal.  I would've put him in his late forties, early fifties but his skin held a pallor that didn't seem right. 

They were seated next to a tiny asian featured woman with the most amazing waist-length blue-black hair whom I'd learned was Lily.  She was pulling a half-chewed cigar from the mouth of a grizzled man wearing a skull-cap.  He must be Zip, the man that had ordered Brand's beating. 

I hated him on sight.

Trey was on the other side of Zip and was explaining something in low tones to Dare, seated to my left.

"These biscuits are the shit!" Dare exclaimed, tearing open his third.

"Reesie made them," Lock called from the table behind him.

"Really?  You made the biscuits, my beauty?" Brand asked over my shoulder.

I shoveled in another forkful of the frittata to cover my embarrassment but nodded in response.

"We ride in fifteen," Trey yelled, standing and my heart sped up at how serious his face was.

The noise changed from the cacophony of voices to the squeals and scrapes of chairs that were shoved back as the bikers moved.  Brand's arm tightened around me, and I was partially lifted, only barely having time to set down my fork as he stood.

"Will you see me off, my Reese?" But I was getting that Brand only asked out of politeness, since he was already pushing me towards the bottleneck of people leaving.

The forecourt was now filled with an array of motorcycles the morning sun glinting off, the shining chrome of forks, fenders and handle bars.  While some riders fiddled with their bikes, others were head to head or mouth to mouth with their women.  I saw more than one couple, who were touching each other in places I didn't think were for public viewing but only got in a couple of glances before I, too, was grabbed.

After a long, slow deep kiss, Brand raised his head.  "I do not know when I will be back.  Stay with the Honeys.  If you need something, ask."

"All I need is for you to be safe," I murmured, raising up on tip-toe to kiss his chin.

"I love you, wife," he said, dropping his lips to my neck.

"I love you, my husband."  Confessing my feelings for him,
to
him, was becoming easier every time I said it.  And, if I was lucky, I'd get to say it a lot more. 

The roar of so many machines starting up was almost deafening.  I saw Big Duke, the large, sick-looking man who was with Dee, open the rolling gate at the front of the property and stand right smack dab in the middle of the driveway.  He held a fist up and I watched as every other rider did the same.

I stepped back a few paces and watched as two by two, the motorcycles peeled away, forming a sort of phalanx that carefully skirted Big Duke.

"They'll ride in their order," I heard Jilly's voice next to my ear.  "Since Big Duke is laying low, it'll be Fats and Trey taking point.  Next is Zip with Brand and Dare behind him.  The other six can ride next to whoever they want, but they'll only move in two lines."