Page 28 of Loving Winter

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“Are you going to be a part of the fights?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at Gabe.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably a round or two. But don’t worry. I know how to handle myself.”

Considering his face is still a little bruised from his brawl with his three friends, I don’t necessarily like the idea of him climbing into the ring tonight. Then again, he’ll only be fighting one person at a time in there, so perhaps I’m worrying needlessly.

As the night continues, I see each of his friends fight, and the more I see, the more impressed I am that Gabriel didn’t end their fight with a broken nose or worse. Dallas is a scrappy fighter, and while his tall frame makes him a larger target, his feet are quick. Rico knows how to feign, drawing in his opponents and leaving them unbalanced before striking quickly and knocking them down. And Knuckles is plain terrifying. I can tell from the sound that each punch he lands is both painful and dangerously powerful. And to top it off, he’s incredibly fast. That, Gabriel explains, is how he got his name. And suddenly, I’m so glad that Knuckles generally considers Gabriel, his friend. While Gabe might have him in weight and height, I’ve never seen someone fight quite like Knuckles before.

New Year’s turns out to be far rowdier than the other parties the club has held. Gabe, in fact, does enter the ring for a couple of rounds later in the evening when the heavyweights take the stage. He goes up against Jason, one of the larger men in the Devil’s Sons, and later Sunny, Jason’s older brother. Both of them are down for the count in a matter of minutes, which not only sets me at ease to know Gabriel is such a savvy fighter but also gives me a newfound appreciation for Gabriel’s strength. I also like it because the men strip off their shirts before climbing into the ring. I get a full view of Gabriel’s godlike physique as he pummels his opponents ruthlessly.

As the night wears on, the drinking gets heavier, the beer slowly shifting to whiskey as the temperature drops, but no one wants to head inside until the fireworks get set off. And as the drinking gets heavier, the club girls begin to grow more explicit in their tasks. I even witness a few blowjobs taking place around the outskirts of the ring, and I’m thankful Gabriel didn’t hand me over to become one of them. Just knowing that was a possibility turns my stomach, though. I might have been turned on by the sensation of having all his friends fucking me at once, but I wouldn’t want just anyone inside me, and it seems that as a club girl, I would have little choice.

After the boxing matches come to an end and the guys start setting up for fireworks, Gabriel pulls me aside. “Want to go for a ride?” he suggests, holding me close against him and looking into my eyes.

I always love riding on the back of his motorcycle. There’s something both exhilarating and sexy about it, and I nod. It’s nice to be spending tonight with him in the midst of his club. While there’s some tension early on when I spot Mark in the crowd and know he might be ready to hand me over to the Blackmoor heirs. I have to account for the fact that I’m pregnant; it almost feels like a normal night with Gabriel, a fun time where we’re getting rowdy like we might if we were normal college kids celebrating the new year.

Taking my hand, Gabriel leads me over to his Night Train, where my jacket is already lying across the seat. Helping me shrug into it, Gabriel then dons his own leather jacket, and we mount up. I’m thankful for the extra warmth as soon as we hit the road and the cold night air whips up around us.

Shivering slightly, I cling to Gabriel’s warm body as we head toward the outskirts of town. The drive is quite familiar, and as soon as we pull onto the side road leading to the King’s estate, I know where he’s taking me.

The house is filled with lights and the raucous noise of college students when we reach the near end of the driveway and come to a stop. Rather than proceeding, we pause at the outskirts of the light, where no one will see us or know we’re there.

The party is in full swing. Through the large picture window, I can see Athena and the three Blackmoor heirs participating in some party event, each with a drink in hand as they partake in the festivities. It’s strange to see them there, acting like normal college students when my life has been anything but that since Halloween. I can hardly believe that just a few months before, I had been doing the same type of socializing, drinking, fucking, and getting wild while pretending to give a shit about class and my future. Mostly, I was in college so I could be present and available for Dean, so we could grow together as a couple until we were ready to graduate and get married.

As if hearing my thoughts, Gabriel wraps his arms around me, warming me against his chest as we watch the scene. “Do you wish you were Dean’s wife?” he asks, his chin brushing lightly against the top of my head as he speaks. “Do you wish this was your party?”

I consider his questions for a long moment, watching the oddly mundane activity. It’s nothing in comparison to the way the Devil’s Sons celebrate the start of the new year. There’s no boxing, and despite the kegs and red solo cups, it seems as though the drinking is tamer or less practiced, I supposed, the drinkers sloppier because they’ve had far fewer years of experience holding their liquor. It almost looks staged to me as I stand there, and I realize that’s a bit of what my life was. A play to be put on for the benefit of my image, not a true representation of my interests or intentions in life.

After taking my time to fully think it through, I say, “No. That isn’t my life anymore. But I don’t really know what is. All I’ve really thought about since I got my memories back is revenge and wanting my old life back, but nothing’s left of it. My family is dead. No one in the town wants me here. My life is in danger if Athena and her boys find out I’m alive. But, still, I don’t know that I’m ever going to truly fit in with the Devil’s Sons either.” I can hear the sadness in my tone as I say those last words, and I know it’s true. While I love a lot of things about Gabe’s makeshift family, I don’t quite belong, and I don’t know that I ever will.

Gabriel presses a kiss to the crown of my head, then slowly grips my hips and turns me to face him. Looking deep into my eyes with his icy-blue ones, he asks, “What if there’s a third option?”

17

Winter

My eyes widenas I stare up at Gabriel, my lips parting in surprise. “What do you mean, a third option?” I stutter, trying to unravel the meaning behind his words.

“I mean, what if I can convince Mark to let me open a new chapter of the Devil’s Sons somewhere else, away from all the danger, away from our pasts? We could start over somewhere new. If I could take you away from here, would that change things?” I can hear a hint of concern in his voice, a vulnerability that says he’s nervous to find out how I will react.

I don’t answer right away, turning away from his blue eyes, looking off into the middle distance as I consider his words. Would that solve all the conflict waging within me? It seems too simple, like it’s not considering the full picture and all that’s making me feel so lost. “I don’t know,” I breathe finally, unable to let the silence linger any longer.

Gabriel swallows hard, and for once, I can see the anxiety in his eyes. “I’ll give you everything I have and more,” he offers. “Hell, I’ll marry you and work a straight-edged job as a mechanic or some shit if that’s what it takes. Or I could run the new chapter as straight and honest as possible. Only take the jobs that are on the up and up. Whatever it takes, Winter. I’ll be a good father. Help with things around the house. You and this baby are all I want in the world. I only want to make you happy.”

His pleas border on desperation, tugging at my heartstrings. I don’t want to leave him feeling like I don’t care. I do. In many ways, Gabriel is a better match for me than any other man I’ve ever met.But how can I be sure it’s the right path for me when I don’t even really know myself?

“I just don’t know, Gabriel. I’m not sure what I want. I don’t even really know who I am. My old life is gone, and with it, all my goals, aspirations, and any thoughts I had on a direction my life might take. I’m scared and confused, and I just need time. I need to figure this out on my own.” Frustration mounts inside me as I feel the walls of expectation closing in.How is it that even after my family is dead and their dreams of me marrying Dean Blackmoor along with it, I’m still stuck with the expectations of meeting someone else’s needs? Of serving someone else’s happiness? Why can’t I seek my own?

Clenching his jaw, Gabriel stays silent for a moment. Time, space, that’s all I’m asking for, but he doesn’t seem to have the patience or desire to give that to me. “You keep pretending like that’s going to solve things. Like if I would just leave you alone, you would have the answer, but you’re not seeing what’s staring you straight in the face, princess,” he growls, his frustration penetrating his tone, chasing away the tenderness that had been there a moment before.

“Oh? And what’s that?” I demand, stepping back and planting my fists on my hips as I glare up at him.

“You’re meant more for this life with me than you care to admit. You fit here. Maybe not here, here. In Blackmoor. But you’re a biker chick, and you know it. You just don’t want to admit it because that would be beneath you.” Stepping forward to tower over me, he balls his hands into fists as if trying to restrain his anger but doing a pretty poor job of it.

“You don’t know that. And you don’t know me. You haven’t taken the time to get to know me. You just like to think I’m meant for your life because you love sticking your cock in me.” I shove his chest, and rather than letting me lose my balance, he takes a voluntary step back. That only angers me further. “Well, now you’ve trapped me, haven’t you? Knock me up and refuse to let me get an abortion. Then I’ll never be able to leave. You’re just an uncivilized brute sometimes, you know that? You don’t really give a shit about me. You just think you do because you like possessing me.”

“That’s not true,” he growls. His lips press together as though he wants to say more but can’t bring himself to object further.

“You know what? I don’t care. Just take me back home. I don’t want to argue about it anymore.”


Tags: Ivy Thorn Erotic