“You want to marry me someday?” I asked. Although there was a teasing lilt in my voice, my heartbeat fluttered wildly as I waited for his response.
Deacon cocked his brows at me while amusement danced in his eyes. “You fishing for a proposal, White-Bread?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Then maybe someday you’ll get it,” he replied with a wink. Then he dipped his head to bestow a gentle kiss on my lips. “Ain’t never wanted to get married before you. Guess it makes sense you would be the one I would marry.”
“You’re so romantic,” I replied with a grin that hid my exultation.
“I am what I am, babe. You ain’t getting anything else.”
“I’ll take you—just as you are.” After a few breathless moments of kissing, I once again pulled back. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go see your brothers tonight?”
“I should. But I want nothing more than to be alone with you.” He kissed me again. “Another twelve hours isn’t going to matter much for Rev and Bishop to get to kick my ass.”
With a giggle, I replied, “You deserve it.”
“After everything, you do understand why I did what did, don’t you?”
“As much as I hate to admit it, yes, I do. I just wish there had been a way you could have let us know you were all right.”
Deacon shook his head. “Appearances are everything. If my family and brothers hadn’t truly been grieving, then the plan wouldn’t have worked.”
“Well, Sigel bought the lie that you were dead. That’s for sure.” The moment the words left my lips, regret flooded me. Deep down, I felt like I shouldn’t have mentioned Sigel’s visit to me at the school. Like I had just unknowingly taken a pin off of a grenade.
Tightening his arms around me, Deacon asked, “What do you mean? Did you see him?”
Knowing full well that Rev and Bishop would tell him about the encounter, I replied, “He paid me a visit yesterday.”
“Tell me everything,” Deacon demanded.
One of my favorite poems had always been Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” As I stood there in Deacon’s arms, I faced my own crossroads. One way would be the easy route where I told Deacon about Sigel wanting the cut. That way would lead to a showdown that would end with one or both of them dead. I had just gotten Deacon back. I didn’t intend to lose him again.
The second path entailed the plan I had masterminded on the back of Archer’s bike. It involved me not only lying to the man I loved, but it meant putting myself into extreme danger to ensure the safety of the ones I held dear. In the end, it wasn’t as hard a choice as I had thought it would be. It was the reason why I’d stolen the cut tonight. Only I would face Sigel when it came to handing over the cut.
“He wanted me to know that I didn’t have to worry about him coming after me or Willow. That with you out of the picture, the slate was clean,” I lied.
Deacon’s brows furrowed. “He came to your school just to tell you that?”
“I think he knew he wouldn’t have a shot to talk to me anywhere else that wouldn’t be overrun with Raiders. Maybe it was a ploy to make the Raiders back off of me. I don’t know.”
“I don’t know, either, but whatever it is, I sure as hell don’t like it. I’m assuming Willow is still safe with Jimmy and Joy in the mountains?”
“But how did you know Willow was still there and not with us?”
He gave me a shadowy smile. “I have my ways of checking on her.”
“Some sort of GPS like in my bracelet?”
“Yeah.”
After I bent down to pick up my now-soiled robe, Deacon reached out for me. His expression was grave. “Alexandra, you wouldn’t lie to me about Sigel, would you? I know you might think you were protecting me, but more than anything, I need you to be honest.”
My heartbeat thrummed so wildly in my ears that I was sure Deacon could hear it. Swallowing the lump in my throat that threatened to choke me, I replied, “Why would I lie to you?”
“You tell me.”
“From what I’ve seen of your world, Deacon, there wouldn’t be any benefit in keeping something from you. As much as I would like to be noble and protect you, I know how stupid and naive that would be. At the end of the day, I need your protection far more than you need mine, so you need to know everything to protect me, right?”
After he searched my face for what seemed like an eternity, Deacon’s tense expression began to fade. I fought the urge to exhale in relief. Instead, I decided to change tactics by forcing a smile to my face. I cocked my head almost provocatively at him. “Thanks to you, I need a shower, and you could probably use one, too.”
A sly grin slunk across his face. “Is that an invitation?”
Wagging my eyebrows, I replied, “Of course.”
“Then get your sexy ass in the shower.”
“My pleasure.”
With my chest constricting in agony, I followed Deacon into the bedroom. My one request of Deacon was to always be honest with me. And here I was being completely dishonest as well as deceiving him. Regardless of the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I wasn’t going to back down. I had to do this for me, for Deacon, and for Willow.
But I couldn’t think about what lay ahead just now. I needed Deacon. I needed to be held by him, loved by him, fucked by him. And that outweighed everything else on my mind.
The moment I walked through the clubhouse back door, my brothers launched themselves at me and quickly overtook me. It wasn’t just Rev and Bishop either. Most of the hometown charter, including the prospects, had a go at me. There was pushing, shoving, punching, and some fuckers even low blowed me by kicking me in the shins and the balls. When it was all over, I had a busted lip, what would be a shiner in the morning, and probably some bruised ribs.
But I wouldn’t have taken anything else for having my brothers welcome me back to life in the only way they really knew how. I sure as hell didn’t think I would come in to hugs and tears. That shit was for pussies and the Raiders women.
“I think this calls for a round to celebrate,” Bishop said, jerking his chin at Cheyenne. When I followed his gaze to her, I registered the grief-stricken expression on her face. While she was glad to have me back, she knew she would never have me. My body and, most important, my heart now belonged to Alexandra. Breaking eye contact with me, she got busy pouring beers.