I shook my head, moving toward the stairs. “Child treats me like her slave,” I muttered, “doesn’t know it should be the other way around, considering I endured labor to bring her into this world.”
I was too busy chattering to myself and thinking about Zane arriving later on that night from his run that I didn’t notice the white rose petals scattered on the stairs. It was only when I entered my room and I smelled the perfume that turned my stomach did I realize. My blood turned to ice and I moved to sprint down the stairs.
“Lexie!” I screamed in terror as arms fastened around me.
“Long time no see, Button,” a sickening voice murmured in my ear. A voice that took me back in time and struck absolute terror through every inch of me.
I reacted on instinct. On pure, survival instinct. My heel went to his shin and I kicked hard. He wasn’t expecting me to fight back so his arms loosened and he cursed. It was enough for me to scramble out of his grip and sprint toward the stairs. Toward my baby. Her terrified face met me at the bottom of the stairs.
“Run!” I yelled at her, hearing his footsteps gaining on me.
He wanted to get home. He needed to get home. Not in the years since he had welcomed the darkness did he ever think he’d be anxious to get back. When he was on runs, doing what he did best, was when the demons were silenced. When he was beating the living fuck out of people who needed to be beaten. Extracting information out of those who knew too much. Killing sick fucks who wronged the club, wronged humankind in the worst way possible. Rapists were his favorite. He sought them out. Made them suffer. He couldn’t change the past. Couldn’t go back and save her. He could save others. Could make those men hurt in ways they never thought possible. What was another black mark on an already charred soul?
But now, he didn’t need to draw blood to get relief. Respite. He only needed to sink into Mia’s pussy. Taste her mouth. Smell her hair. Hear Lexie’s laugh. Play guitar with her. That was more effective than drawing blood. Taking lives. The light was coming back. Scratch that. It was back.
“You gonna make it official, brother?” Lucky asked him with a grin.
Bull glanced at him from the bar, downing the last of his whisky, savoring the burn. His silence spoke for him.
“If you like it then you should put a ring on it.” Lucky did some fuckin’ ridiculous gesture with his hands. “Give us another reason to celebrate,” he clarified, lifting his own drink. “We just smoked the last mother fucker connected to the shooting—that’s cause for a drink.” He finished it as if to make a point. “But a wedding—” His brother gave him a look. “That’s a reason to fucking par-tay,” he drawled on a grin, “and a great way to get me laid.”
Brock, who was on his way out, punched him on the arm, not lightly. “As if you need a fuckin’ wedding to get yourself laid, you horny fuck,” he chuckled. “I doubt Bull’s going to put your cock into consideration when debating popping the question.”
Lucky shrugged his shoulders. “Well, my cock will be happy nonetheless,” he said.
Brock grinned at Bull and for once, Bull felt like grinning back. He wouldn’t, but at least he felt included in the easy banter he had been distant from for so long.
“Your cock gets happy on anything to do with Mia, I’ll chop the fucker off,” Bull declared, only half joking.
At this, half the clubhouse roared with laughter at Lucky’s panicked expression and instinctual cupping of his crown jewels. Bull didn’t make jokes, only promises, hence Lucky’s terror for his boys.
Cade appeared from church and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t think any fucker would be stupid enough to even look at your woman the wrong way,” he declared lightly. “Applaud Kill for having the balls to even go near Lexie, with you breathing down his neck.”
Bull bristled at the mention of the little fuck. He was not showing any signs of getting sick of Lexie. He was besotted with her. It worried him. Lexie was destined for greatness; she was a superstar in the making. Killian was a Son. Wasn’t patched in yet, but as soon as the kid turned eighteen he knew he was going for the patch. His life was the club. They’d half brought him up after his father died and his mom checked out. He was a good kid, his interest in Lexie notwithstanding. But he wasn’t going places. Not like Lexie. That meant trouble. She was about as obsessed with him as he was with her. And not in a temporary, fleeting, teenage kind of way. In the lasting, once in a lifetime, type of way. He knew it because she looked at Killian the way her mother looked at him.
Bull shook the thoughts out of his head and stood. “Yeah well, that’s why I’m not sitting here with you ugly fuckers a moment longer,” he declared in a tone so light he was surprised it came out of him. “I’m going home to my family.” A warmth settled in him at that statement. That’s what they were. His.
“Zane!” a voice screamed.