Chapter 29

Songs:

So Far Gone, Thousand Foot Krutch
Darkness Settles In, Five Finger Death Punch
The Kill, Thirty Seconds to Mars
Living The Dream, Five Finger Death Punch

*Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one.

Edward

I can't keep my eyes off of her as she moves over me. With her head thrown back, her hair mussed and clinging to her face and neck, she's a vision of pure, fucking perfection.

"That's it," I coax, my thumb rubbing circles around her clit and my hand splayed out over her lower belly. She changes her angle, her hands coming to rest on my chest, forcing me deeper inside. My cock is hitting her in just the right spot, making me grunt and her gasp.

"Oh." Her head jerks forward, and her eyes meet mine. Using me for leverage, she pushes back, grinding against me. "Oh, fuck," she groans, her eyelids fluttering closed.

I grasp her hips but don't guide her movements so much as just hold on, letting her keep the fuck awesome rhythm she's got going. "That's it, Bella. Fuck me, baby."

Her eyes open, her heated, hungry gaze locking with mine, and she rotates her hips just a little faster and with a little more purpose. When she starts to rise up to slam back down, I meet her thrust for thrust. Both of us chase our high, and when we finally come, it's together and it's intense and beautiful and perfect and just about every other clichéd thing I can think of.

It's going to suck to be away from her for two weeks.

She falls forward against my chest, her breath hot against my skin as it escapes her in heavy pants. My own breathing is labored, and my heart pounds against my ribcage. I trail the fingertips of one hand up and down her back while using my other hand to brush the hair from her face and neck. I can't keep my hands off her, even though we're both slick with sweat and in desperate need of a shower. Knowing I won't have her like this for way too fucking long, I want to make this moment last as long as I can.

"What time do you have to be on the road?" Her voice is low, quiet in the dark, as if she were to speak any louder it would fracture the peace that's settled over us.

"About an hour." I kiss the top of her head. "I'd love to stay and have breakfast with you and the boys, but the guys want to get an early start."

"I understand. Think you have time for a shower with me?" she asks, hopeful.

I roll us over and settle between her spread legs, kissing a trail up her neck and nipping at her ear. "I'll make time."

After a long and thorough shower, I have to force myself to finish up what needs to be done so I can leave. As I go through my mental checklist, making sure I'm not forgetting anything, I realize I haven't taken care of some pretty important shit. I stuff one more DOMC t-shirt into my backpack and zip it closed.

"Got everything?" she asks from the doorway.

"Almost. Come here." I motion her over and open my arms. She walks into them and I wrap them around her tightly. "I'm going to miss you so fucking much."

"I'm going to miss you, too," she mumbles. "Just ..."

"Just what?"

"Look, I know shit happens on runs. That shit stays on the road. I've never wanted to know about it. And Sturgis is a big one. But now ... I can't ..." She blows out a heavy breath. "I just want you to remember what's waiting for you at home, okay?"

I grasp her chin and tilt her head up to look at me. "I'm not going to throw away what we've got here on patch whores and a good time, okay? You're too important to me. I just got you back, and I'm not gonna fuck it up now."

She nods, but I'm not convinced she believes me.

"Go get your phone."

"What? Why?"

"I want to show you how to track me. I don't want you to think I'm trying to hide anything from you."

"Edward, you don't have to—"

"I do. Go get it."

A small smile graces her pouty lips as she reaches over to the nightstand to grab it. "Here," she says, unlocking it and handing it over.

After making a huge production of showing her my phone's passcode and how to find me using my shared location, I hand back her phone. "Now you'll know where I am at all times."

"Thank you," she says softly, looking up at me. "It really means a lot."

"It's the absolute least I can do." I pull her closer and hold her tighter. "I also need to show you something before I go."

"What?"

"The access code for the safe. I want to make sure you can get to what's in there if you need it while I'm gone."

She pulls away just enough to look up at me. "What could I possibly need while you're gone?"

"It's a long ride to South Dakota, Bella. A lot can happen between here and there. There's paperwork, cash, a couple guns." I shrug a shoulder. "Shit you might need." Looking down at her—freshly-fucked and still a little glassy-eyed—I can't bring myself to tell her about the run we're making for García. It's best if I keep that one to myself.

"You're making it sound like the road will be fraught with peril." She rolls her pretty brown eyes. "You've made the trip every year since you patched in, so stop acting like you're riding toward your doom."

I must not school my expression quick enough, because she sees it.

"What is the club up to now?"

"The only thing I can tell you is that I can't tell you. But I'm not hiding where I'll be, okay? That's the best I can do."

"Okay," she murmurs as she stares at my chest, idly playing with the chain around my neck.

"Are you sure you're okay with dropping Seth off at Angela's?"

"I told you I didn't mind."

It's been a strange but peaceful transition for all of us. The boys took to living together like ducks to water. It took them a little longer to get used to seeing Bella and me being demonstratively affectionate with each other, though.

Sitting down with Angela and Seth to discuss what was next for us was easier than I thought it would be. I wasn't going to force Seth to do anything he didn't want to do, so we gave him the option of staying here for one more school year before moving with his mom to Seattle. He was quick to decide. Living with his cousin was a bigger draw than discovering a new city, and I wasn't shy about making it known it made me so damn happy that he chose to stay with me.

Now, just a few weeks later, everyone has settled in. The boys seem to have adjusted to the strangeness of their parents being together. Angela and Ben don't leave for Seattle for another month, so we're sticking with the same visitation schedule we've always had. While I'm in Sturgis, Seth will be with his mom, which leaves Bella and Sam here alone with only a couple new prospects to keep an eye on them.

I can't say I feel good about it, but I have a part to play for the club, whether I like it or not.

After showing her how to open the safe in our closet, I sneak into Seth's room where Sam is camping out in a makeshift bed on the floor. I wake them enough to tell them goodbye, kissing them both and getting sleepy-eyed goodbyes in return from each of them.

With a final kiss from Bella that will play on a loop in my head for days to come, I head out for the clubhouse where everyone else is meeting.

It's time to hit the road.

"A few of us are making a pit stop before we head north." Pop stands at the head of the table in the chapel. Our impromptu church meeting is to make sure we have all of our proverbial ducks in a row before we hit the road. "García has his shipment ready for us to load, and he's expecting us before nine. E, Jazz, Mac, and Trigger are with me. We'll meet up with the rest of you at that diner we always stop at outside Flagstaff. We need to make it to Grand Junction by tonight for the drop. Any questions?"

With no questions or objections, Pop calls church to a close, and we file out of the chapel and head outside. Some of the shit we can't haul on our bikes—shit like the support gear we'll be hocking while we're at the rally—is loaded into the van. I help move a few boxes but stand back to watch as Tracker and the new prospect arrange it all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother leaning against the doorframe of the shop's office, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes laser focused on me. Seeing her isn't a shock; I've seen her almost daily since our run-in at the hospital. But outside of work-related shit, I haven't spoken to her since then.

I've never left for the rally without saying goodbye. But things are different now.

She's made her choice.

When everything is loaded and everyone has made their final check, we hit the road. We're only a handful of miles outside town when those of us meeting García split off and head for South Tucson. It's still early, and the meeting spot is all but deserted. Much like the abandoned service station where I met him last time, García and his men have chosen another desolate area in which to meet.

It's a quiet exchange. Pop and our business partner have a hushed conversation while the rest of us load up our saddlebags with the product we're moving for him. I'm polite, respectful, when Pop calls me over to join in the conversation, even though inside I'm seething over this bullshit.

"I want to thank you for being understanding about our issues with your shipments a few weeks back," Pop says to García as I approach. "We had quite a few interruptions in recent weeks."

My hackles rise at his choice of words. As if Masen's death was a speed bump or minor inconvenience or some shit.

"So, I appreciate your patience with the club," Pop continues.

García waves away Pop's comment. "It was no problem. The special package your son delivered was more than enough compensation for my troubles."

My heart pounds double time at the mention of the heroin I hand delivered a few weeks back.

Pop's smile only briefly wavers, but his eyes flash in my direction. "I'm glad to hear it."

García turns to me. "It was a pleasure dealing directly with you last time. If you were ever to take over for your father, I want you to know I would be happy continuing our arrangement."

I nod but remain silent.

"That's good to know," Pop replies for me.

García hands over a slip of paper, the address where we're supposed to dump this shit written in his messy scrawl. "The men at this address will be expecting you after sundown."

"It won't be a problem," Pop says, his what I call business smile wide. "Here's to the beginning of a beautiful friendship." He thrusts his hand out, and García takes it, sealing the deal with a handshake.

"Please make sure you tell Esme and Alice that they should visit one of my daughter's boutiques in Nogales. I would be happy to make sure they receive a discount." As he turns to me, my skin crawls, knowing what he's about to say. "And the beautiful Bella should join them. Maybe bring those handsome boys of yours along. I'm sure we could find something that young Seth and Samuel would enjoy."

"I'll be sure to tell them," Pop says, his voice finally showing the first sign of the uneasiness he should have felt from the beginning. He releases García's hand, and as we turn around to walk back to our bikes, tension radiates off both of us. When we're out of earshot of both García and our guys, I can't keep my opinion to myself any longer.

"Do you have any fucking idea what kind of shit you've gotten us into?" I growl. "You've just made a deal with the devil." I turn to look at him, fire blazing in my eyes. "That offer for a discount isn't twenty-five percent off a handbag. That motherfucker just threatened us. You realize that, don't you?"

His jaw clenches, but he doesn't turn to face me, merely putting one foot in front of the other to get back to our bikes, back to the other guys who are double-checking the loads.

"Yes, I realize it," he snaps. The sound of gravel crunching under tires can be heard as García and his men pull away behind us. "You think I don't know how dangerous this is?" He finally stops and turns to me, putting out a hand to stop me. "But it's worth the risk. We need this. The money we could generate for the club could change all our lives. This is just the first step toward bigger things. I think it's worth more than a little risk."

I step into his space, leaning in until my face is an inch away from his. "I didn't sign up for this, Pop. I'm not prepared to risk the people I care about. People like García don't throw around the names of old ladies and kids for shits and giggles. He wants us to know he's got us under his thumb. One little thing goes wrong, and he's going to go after our families. Tell me how that's worth the risk." My hands are clenched into fists at my sides, and I have to resist the urge to kick his ass. "That's my girl ... my kids he's threatening."

"It's a risk everyone was willing to take," he bites back.

"Yeah, well, if you remember, I voted no to this shit."

"You're a part of this club, and you know what that means. We're in this together, whether you like it or not." I start to walk away, but he reaches out and grabs my arm. "I think you have some explaining to do, too, son."

I shake him off. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What was he saying back there about a special package?"

I shake my head. "Nah, motherfucker, that has nothing to do with this. I'm not gonna let you change the subject and flip the script on me." I stomp toward the rest of the guys, snatch my brain bucket off the handlebars, and straddle the seat. "Come on. We need to get going if we're gonna meet the others on time."

I fire up my bike before he can question me any more, pulling toward the street and waiting. Reluctantly, Pop lets me lead, and I take advantage of it, allowing the wind and speed to clear my head.

When we finally meet up with the rest of the club, they're already halfway through their meals, so the rest of us order whatever the special is and wolf it down. I stay as far as I physically can from Pop, choosing to talk to the new prospect. Tyler Crowley's been hanging around for a few months, and the day after he turned twenty-one, he showed up asking to prospect. He's got an old lady and a little girl at home, and he seems to be pretty laid-back. Chatting him up, I'm pretty convinced he's a good fit for us. He also needs a road name, and I make it a goal to figure out one for him by the end of the week.

It's something I can concentrate on instead of the growing ball of anxiety rolling in my gut the closer we get to the drop.

As we approach Grand Junction, Colorado, we split off once again, five of us carrying the shipment and the others making their way to the hotel. The closer we get to the delivery location, the bigger and heavier that ball in my stomach gets. When we ride up on the address García gave us, my senses are on full alert.

In an out-of-the-way place this side of the city, just off the interstate near the airport, the drop point is in a much more developed area than I was expecting. I'm more than a little wary about how we're going to be able to keep things discreet. Nervous energy creeps along my skin, and every car we pass, every person who looks our way as we ride by, I'm worried they're undercover cops here to haul our asses to jail on drug charges.

The five of us ride past the open gates surrounding the building and into the lot. Standing next to a blue sedan parked away from the glow of any lamppost, two men wait for us. Pop rattles off the code word García gave us, and the exchange is made.

Not knowing these people or what they might try to pull makes me jumpy, and I'm sure it shows as I try to unload the shit as fast as I can. Once it's all done, we go our separate ways; they continue east on I-70 and we turn toward the city and the hotel.

With every mile I put between them and us, my saddlebags aren't the only things that feel lighter.

We stop at a Holiday Inn not too far from the drop location. Everyone is bunking with their usual roommate, which means I'm with Jazz. After a shower and a quick call to Bella to let her know we've stopped for the night, I sprawl out on the bed, checking out what's on pay-per-view and eating the takeout I snagged from the hotel's grill.

Jazz walks out in a pair of shorts, rubbing a towel over his damp head. "Find anything good?"

"Nah. I've seen most of this already."

He plops down onto his bed and cracks open his Styrofoam box, digging into his room-temperature nachos. "Then just switch on ESPN or something. I'll probably just crash once I'm done eating anyway."

"You got it." I scroll through the channels to find the one I'm looking for, and we settle in to watch the highlights from a motocross race.

Both of us nosh on our dinner, and the longer we sit in silence, the more it starts to bug me. Things haven't really been the same between us since my meeting with García weeks ago, and it bothers me that there's still tension.

"You and Ali okay?" I ask, attempting to start the conversation.

He shrugs, scooping a giant mound of beef and cheese onto a chip. "She's been stressing again about the baby thing."

"I noticed she wasn't at the hospital the day Boomer's kid was born."

He stares blankly at the television. "She couldn't bring herself to hold another one, ya know?" he asks, finally looking my way. "She wants us to go see a doctor. Get tested or whatever."

"It might be a good idea. You two have been trying for a while, right?"

He bobs his head in a nod. "Yeah. A few years."

"Then go for it. What's the worst that can happen?"

He scoffs. "Yeah, don't ask your sister that. She'll give you a list a mile long of all the shit that could happen, namely that they tell us something is really wrong, and it won't happen for us."

"Have you guys thought about adoption?"

"We've talked about it, but we're both worried any agency would take one look at me and laugh us out of their office." He tosses his goop-covered chip back in the box and wipes his fingers on a napkin. "It would kill me to think me being part of the club would ruin her chances to be a mom."

"There's always private adoptions. There are ways, Jazz. Don't give up before you even know what the deal is. She could be knocked up right now. You just don't know."

He's silent for a few moments, back to blankly staring at the television. "Yeah," he finally says, either in agreement or just to end the conversation.

The race highlights fill the silence, and we both go back to eating. When my food is gone, I settle back into my bed, folding an arm behind my head. I start to doze off, but Jazz's voice gets my attention.

"You and Carl okay?" he asks.

I sit up a little higher and look over at him. "Guess so. We don't exactly see eye to eye on this shit with García, though."

"You have to know if it wasn't about the money, I would have voted against it, too. Even with insurance, fertility treatments aren't exactly cheap. I need to scrape together every cent we have if we end up going that route."

"I get it. Doesn't mean I like it, but I get it."

The TV is the only sound in the room for a long while until Jazz brings up something I'd rather leave in the past.

"You ever gonna tell me what you slipped García the night you and I met up with him?"

My head thumps against the headboard, and I blow out a heavy breath. "I don't think it even matters at this point."

"Is it something that can come back to bite our asses?"

I stare up at the ceiling. "I don't think so. But telling you or anyone else could change that, and I'd rather leave things the way they are." I turn my head and meet his questioning eyes. "I think we should leave the past buried in this case."

"If you think that's for the best."

"I do. But if it ever comes up and I need to figure shit out, you'll be the first person I come to."

His nod is slow but reassuring. "Okay," he drawls. "I'm here for whatever you need, man."

"Thanks."

My gaze returns to the ceiling, my thoughts a jumbled mess as I shuffle through all the shit that's been thrown my way since Masen died. And like always, Jazz picks up on it.

"There something else eatin' you up over there?"

I chuckle humorlessly, wondering if it would be better to lighten the load I'm carrying. "You sure you wanna know?"

"Do you really gotta ask me that?"

Again, I swivel my head to look at him, hesitating for a moment. But when he nods, encouraging me, I finally ask, "What would you say if I told you Esme had been stealing from Mase?"

His brow furrows. "Stealing how?"

"Shorting his paychecks."

"Like, what are we talking? Twenty bucks a week?"

"I'm talking paying him several bucks an hour less than the rest of us ... for the last ten years. That bitch was underpaying Mase from the day he hired into the shop."

"Why the fuck would she do that?"

I shrug. "Maybe she thought he'd move on, look for work elsewhere, get fed up with scraping by and leave town ... take Bella with him. I can't even begin to wonder what her intentions were. The only thing she's told me is she wanted Bella away from me. She has it in her head I've been pining for her all this time and haven't settled down because Bella was still around."

He raises a brow and purses his lips. "But isn't Es right?"

I huff a breath and cross my arms over my chest. "It doesn't matter. She fucked them up, Jazz. The money she took could have made all the difference for them." I think about Masen's letter ... his confession about taking the heroin to sell for extra cash. My gut twists at the thought that he died over money my mother owed him. Even though I clear my throat, my voice is raspy when I speak. "I believe down to the marrow of my bones Mase would be alive if she hadn't done what she did."

Jazz stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the gears turning in his head. His jaw tenses, and I can see in his eyes when he starts making the connections. "So, Caius went after him for more than just fucking around with his daughter?"

I don't reply. Instead, I continue to hold his stare.

"E, there are only a few reasons Volturi would come after him."

When I don't reply, he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "Did Carl know what she was up to?"

"He says he didn't, but at this point, I'm not so sure I believe him."

"But he knows now?"

I bob my head in a nod. "Yeah, but he didn't seem very enthusiastic about making her pay it back."

His brows shoot up, surprised. "She's actually paying it back?"

"She sent Bella a check for some of it but still owes her a shit ton of money, Jazz."

"What are you gonna do about it?"

I exhale a heavy breath. "Other than cutting her out of my life and Seth's, I have no fucking idea."

A/N: So, do we think they've made a deal with the devil? Do you think Edward has a reason to worry? What do you think is next for them? I'd love to hear what you think.

The Outcasts are on their way to Sturgis, SD for the bike rally that happens to be actually taking place this week. They're expecting a crowd into the hundreds of thousands ... even with a pandemic raging on. Lol. In years past, it's been estimated to attract upwards of 600k people. Can you imagine? I've never been, but it's something Mr. Sunshine and I would love to see one day.

The fundraiser to help one of our Twi Sisters is still ongoing, with Zoom calls with some of your favorite fic writers still to come. See the Facebook group, Author's 411, for more details.

Things are about to get crazy for me, so my posting schedule will be a little wonky the next couple of weeks. I'll keep you posted in my FB group and in A/Ns, so be sure to read the fine print. ;)

Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I also share teasers and chapter pics there. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220.

Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.

Lots of love
~Sunshine