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“I love him, River,” Mae whispered. “I love him so much already. I cannot stop staring at his face . . . he is a dream come true.”

As I lay with Mae and Charon, I thought of the fucking war we were in. The war that was building, getting ready to explode. And I knew, now I had this—them—I’d fucking fight harder than before. I’d protect my club harder than ever. And if any motherfucker tried to take them from me, I’d kill them. I’d cut them open and make them bleed until no blood was left.

No fucker was getting to my family. Nobody.

I smiled coldly when I thought of someone even fucking trying.

Chapter Ten

Adelita

“You’ll be fine,” Tanner reassured me and took hold of my hand. He pulled me to him on the bed. I went—I would always go—crawling onto his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. As I stared into his blue eyes, I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact we were here.

At night, when Tanner slept, I would lie awake in fear. Dread would course through me at a rapid pace. A suffocating weight would gather in my sternum, a dull persistent ache when I let myself succumb to the idea that scared me most—that this was all a foolish dream. That right now, Tanner and I were playing house. Locked up in his room like we were free from our pasts, free from the shackles that had held us back from running away when we first fell in love.

I would stare at the ceiling, the room pitch black due to being far away from the city lights. But even in the darkness, I would see my father’s face. I would see Diego’s. I would see their men mobilizing to bring me back. I had no idea if they suspected the Hangmen. But the fact that it was quiet—too quiet–didn’t fill me with hope. Instead, it filled me with such great terror that I touched Tanner whenever I could. Each kiss was given as though it would be our last. I savored his muscles under my hands. His hair through my fingers. And I cherished how this felt—to be with the one I loved.

My fiancé.

My heart.

Leaning in, I kissed Tanner, holding on to him tightly. Tanner kissed me back, then laughed against my lips. My chest warmed as his deep timbre rumbled through me. If we got through this mess, it would be my greatest task—to make this man laugh more.

“If you keep grinding your pussy against me like that we won’t be going nowhere, princess.”

Sighing, I pulled back and got off Tanner’s lap to look at myself in the mirror. I stared at the black jeans I wore, and the tank with the Hangmen emblem in the center. Beauty had brought me more clothes from her store. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I had to breathe deeply.

If my father saw me now . . . if he saw that emblem standing in pride of place on my chest . . .

I squeezed my eyes shut when I thought of that man. The man I had loved so much. Idolized. Worshipped . . . to have the illusion shattered by the haunted eyes and timid voice of a serially abused child.

“You ready?” Tanner moved behind me, his hands on my shoulders. He brushed my hair away from my neck and kissed my bare skin. His rough hands ran down my arms, only for his hand to link through my fingers. I couldn’t help but stare at the reflection of us both—Tanner in his dark jeans, boots, white tank and Hangmen cut. And me, his woman, matching him in dress but the complete opposite to him in looks.

To my eyes, I had never seen a couple look more compatible.

Tanner brought my hand to his mouth and laid a kiss on the back. “Come on.” I breathed deeply, trying to quell my nerves. The president, Styx, and his wife were coming to the clubhouse today with their new son. They had been home a few days, but the men had yet to see his new child. Tanner told me there was a celebration to be had in Charon’s honor. And I’d been allowed to attend. For many days I’d been in Tanner’s room with him, not allowed to step outside. I wasn’t sure why I was being allowed to leave now—maybe they finally believed that I never intended to go back to my father. Or perhaps Styx was so overcome with happiness at being a new father that he was being overly lenient. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was leaving this room, the safe bubble in which I had found comfort, my small bubble with Tanner.

On seeing my nerves, Tanner turned me from the mirror to face him. He gently dropped his forehead to mine. “You’ll be fine.”

I gave him a forced smile. “I’m Adelita Quintana; of course I will.” Though my family name suddenly didn’t fill me with much confidence.

Tanner didn’t smile back at me. Taking hold of my left hand, he brought it between us, running his thumb over the place his cotton engagement ring once sat. “One day, Lita . . . One day you won’t be a Quintana.” My breathing hitched and a lump clogged my throat at the telltale emotional gravel in Tanner’s voice. His blue eyes met mine. “One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be an Ayers.” He exhaled like it was a breath he had been holding for an eternity. “One day soon, after all these years apart, of fighting and fucking working to make this happen, you’ll finally be mine.”

My hand shook as he spoke those words. It was my greatest dream too. Not to be rich. I’d been rich my entire life and still felt alone. My greatest wish in life was simple. It was him. My Tanner.

“Yes,” I announced, as though he had once again proposed. I kissed the finger that would wear his wedding band. “Soon.” I closed my eyes for a few seconds and let myself imagine what that moment would be like. The moment I said “I do.” The moment Tanner and I wore wedding bands and the priest pronounced us man and wife.

Adela Elizebetta Quintana Ayers.

I frowned. In my culture, we kept our family’s name and took our husband’s name too. But the Quintana name to me now was ruined.

Adelita Ayers . . . I smiled. It felt . . . right.

The coil of dread that had resided in me since I came back to Tanner grew tighter still, fear chasing away any other dominant emotion. But I pushed it aside, willing myself to ignore the persistent feeling that this couldn’t last. I would embrace the moment. And right now, after years of seeking a safe place for us to be together, Tanner was introducing me to his friends as his old lady.

I knew this meant the world to him.

Gripping my hand in his, Tanner led us from the room that had become my sanctuary, and toward a bar. The sound coming from inside was deafening as we approached. If Tanner felt my hand trembling, he was polite enough not to let me know. I took a deep breath as Tanner opened the door. The place was packed. I knew the clubhouse and the grounds outside were full of other men from all over the southern states of the US. But seeing them all congregating in one place was more than overwhelming.

Tanner craned his neck above the sea of men, and then waved at someone over the crowd. Some of the men looked at us as we passed, but not as much as I feared. I relaxed some when my being in the room, holding Tanner’s hand, didn’t garner as much attention I as I thought it would.

When we broke through the throng, it was to see Beauty sitting with other familiar faces. The man beside her got to his feet, as did Beauty. Tank. Beauty was smiling widely at me. “Hey, darlin’!” she said, and came around the table. I froze as Beauty threw her arms around

my neck. I quickly looked to Tanner, who let go of my hand. The corner of his lip was pulled up in humor.

When Beauty let go, I said, “Hello, again.”

Beauty put her hand on Tank’s shoulder. “Now that things aren’t so fucked up, this, Adelita, is Tank. My man and Tanner’s best friend.”

Tank gave me a tight smile, then held out his hand. I shook it, and said, “Thank you for being such a good friend to Tanner.”

Tank seemed taken back by my words. Like he didn’t know that Tanner would’ve spoken so highly of him. Or maybe that he’d even told me who Tank was to him. Tank looked at Tanner. “You been talking about me, brother?”

Tanner shrugged, then looked to some other men who were there. “This is AK.” AK got to his feet and I shook his hand. I remembered him from the truck ride to the clubhouse when I was taken from the barn. “This is Bull, Ky, Cowboy, Hush, Smiler, and Rudge.” I shook all the men’s hands.

A tall man with red hair got up from his seat and smiled widely at me. He came straight to me, saying, “Fuck the handshake.” He wrapped his arms around me. “I need to show our cartel princess some Viking love.” Just as he squeezed me to his chest, he was pulled away.

Tanner pushed him back until he fell into his seat. “Don’t fucking touch her,” Tanner warned.

The red-haired man just smiled and casually put his hands on the back of his head. “What’s wrong, White Prince? Worried your princess will prefer the anaconda to your worm?” I frowned, having no understanding of what they were talking about. The redhead shrugged. “I can’t help if bitches love me. I’m fucking irresistible to pussy.”


Tags: Tillie Cole Hades Hangmen Erotic