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  “Two boys and a girl,” he shoots back.

  “Whatever.”

  “But that poor girl. She’ll be all alone. She’d love a sister.”

  “Stop.” I roll my eyes. “We’re not having four kids.”

  “We’ll see,” he mutters, closing his eyes.

  “No. No. No.”

  “Mmm,” he mumbles. “So, will you take the job?”

  Jesus.

  He’s making my head spin.

  He’s popping back and forth between too many topics.

  He’s wearing me down.

  Something he likes to do when he wants things I’m not necessarily one hundred percent on board with.

  “We’ll see. We have plenty of time.”

  “Just think about it.”

  “I will.”

  “I’m serious,” he says.

  “Me too. I said I’ll think about it.”

  “Good,” he whispers. “Six babies.”

  I chew my lips and think about everything he said. About the garage. About working together. About our babies. About Mammoth in my life forever, and everything we could build together.

  And as I fall asleep, I dream of our future.

  4

  Mammoth

  The drive to the compound is long and abnormally quiet. Tamara usually talks my ear off the entire way when she’s with me, but today, she’s silent. I’ve tried to talk to her a few times, but every response has been clipped and usually given to the window instead of turning to face me with her reply.

  I understand why, but it doesn’t make the time pass any faster or keep the silence from being overwhelmingly deafening.

  She is stewing over the fact that I could’ve died, even though I didn’t. The thought of losing me has been chewing at her insides for days now, planting a firm hold in her head, allowing the seeds of fear to sprout roots.

  When we finally make it to the clubhouse, she marches straight to the bar and plops down on a stool, giving every person inside the stink eye.

  None of the guys will say shit to her because she’s mine. I think they are afraid of her too, but they’ll never admit it. They also know the happy, playful, and troublemaking Tamara far better than the one whose anger is currently festering as she sits at the bar, tapping her fingernails against the wood.

  “Keep your fine ass there,” I tell her, pointing to the spot.

  I want to make sure we’re both clear on where she should be and stay. The last thing I need is her stirring up anything while I am busy with Tiny and Morris.

  Every time she comes here, she starts trouble, especially with the women, and I don’t have the time or the patience to clean up her mess today.

  I know the jealous bitches target her, hating that she’s with me and somehow feeling slighted. I never would’ve been with them anyway, but they never seemed to believe me when I said as much.

  Tamara lifts up her hands, leaning back in the stool. “Where else would I go?” she says, giving me lip and tons of attitude.

  I tilt my head, staring at her. “I’m serious.”

  She smiles devilishly. “Me too.”

  “I got her, brother. I’ll watch her,” Eagle says to me, resting an arm against the bar, sipping a beer. “Her ass won’t move.”

  “Technically,” she says, raising a finger, “my ass will move, but not off this stool.”

  I grunt and shake my head.

  The woman is impossible and difficult, but goddamn, I’m nuts about her. Maybe I am the crazy one, keeping her around even when she makes my life challenging.

  But in the balance of sanity and crazy, the good outweighs the bad, and she brings so much love into my life when I never thought I’d find it.

  “Mammoth!” Morris’s voice booms through the room, making everyone jump except me. “Get your ass in here and stop fuckin’ around with your woman.”

  “You heard the man.” Tamara shoos me away. “We’ll just be here, catching up and talking about you.”

  Eagle’s eyes slide to mine, and he shrugs. “Just go,” he tells me with a chin lift. “I got this. I’ll handle her.”

  Tamara raises an eyebrow, a crooked smile on her face. She loves when men try to “handle her.” She and Eagle have spent enough time together; they get each other. He’s the one guy I know, besides me, who will put up with her shit and keep on rolling.

  “Fucking hell,” I mutter, moving toward Morris as he stands in the doorway, arms crossed, mean mug firmly planted on his face.

  I have attitude coming from all sides, and I’m the one with a hole in my body.

  Morris’s gaze bounces between my face and my shoulder, taking two passes before he turns his back, walking into the room. “Close the door,” he says before my boots make it fully inside the space.

  Tiny’s at the opposite end of the room, sitting at the table, flipping the lid of his Zippo lighter open and closed, over and over again. “Sit,” he tells me, eyes dipping to the open seat. “It’s time to talk.”

  It’s almost like I’m the one who’s about to be grilled over something I did wrong, when I’m the one who got shot for breaking down in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  I sit, staring down the long table, remaining silent until Morris takes a seat next to Tiny like he always does. “I’m ready to talk,” I say when all three of us are seated. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Tiny places his lighter on top of a pack of cigarettes before leaning forward, clasping his hands. “The man who shot you is being dealt with,” Tiny announces.

  “He went rogue from his club and was acting against the wishes of his Prez.” There’s a smile behind Morris’s palm as he moves his hand across his face. “The hit on you was not sanctioned, but the retaliation for his offense was, and the matter is now closed.”

  Just like that…it’s done. I got no say in anything even though I’m the one who took the bullet.

  My leg begins to move, up and down, up and down, underneath the table, releasing the energy and rage I feel toward Morris and Tiny for not including me in the conversation.

  “But we’ll talk more about it tomorrow,” Morris adds, staring down the table at me.

  “As for your time with the club,” Tiny continues, staring down the length of the table as he crosses one arm over his chest and places the opposite hand on his beard. “What did the doctors say about your shoulder?”

  “They said it’ll heal, and I’ll probably need therapy for a few months to get back full use of the muscles that were damaged.”

  Tiny turns to Morris, exchanging a look before he speaks. “We know you want out. We know you’ve been chomping at the bit since you fell for that woman and had a taste of her sweetness.”

  “I do,” I tell them, having stated all this before. “I know there will be strings, but I want to be as close to her as possible and start whatever life I can with her at my side. You know she’s not built for this life. She wouldn’t be a good fit.”

  “You can say that again,” Morris mutters. “Since you’re of no use to us here if you can’t ride, we feel it’s time for you to start opening up shop on the other coast and get yourself set up.”

  “Okay,” I say, trying to keep the happiness out of my voice. I figured I still had a good eight months left before they’d give me permission to leave, but maybe the shooting was a blessing in disguise.

  “You’re still a Disciple. Still a brother. We’re giving you more leeway than we’ve given others in the past,” Tiny adds.

  “I know.” I nod, fully understanding the opportunity they’re giving me by allowing me to leave and keep breathing. “I’m thankful for that.”

  “You’ve always done what’s best for the club. You are not only a brother by name, but by oath and action,” Morris adds.

  “This is my family too,” I remind them, remembering how lost I felt after I left the military and somehow found myself prospecting for the MC.

  I’ve always prided myself on my loyalty and being a man of my wor
d. If it weren’t for Tamara, I’d probably have spent my life within the MC, eventually landing an old lady and raising my kids around a group of men who’d always have my back.

  “This is not a free pass. You understand what I’m saying?” Tiny studies my face.

  I nod.

  “If we need you, when we call, you’ll do what’s asked. Your freedom only extends as far as we’ll allow it to reach.”

  “Got it.” I lean back in the chair, stretching my legs. “Once a Disciple, always a Disciple.”

  “I hate to see you go,” Tiny says, breaking with his usual tough-as-nails bullshit. “I understand why you’re going but doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

  “I know,” I tell him, trying not to get sentimental.

  I had so many good times here.

  Hell, great times, even. But there’s a time when every man must move on, and my time is now.

  “I found something too good to let slip through my fingers.”

  Tiny sighs. “Figured it would happen sooner or later. I was just hoping it was with one of our girls.”

  Morris shakes his head. “He needed someone who was going to challenge him, and the women around here are not that,” Morris adds. “His girl, the one sitting out there giving shit to Eagle, she was made for him. Can’t deny the connection. I saw it the moment they met. I knew then as much as I do now, she would take him away.”

  Tiny grunts. “Stay the night to celebrate with us, yeah?”

  “Of course,” I tell them, not feeling like getting back in the car with Tamara for a silent ride home. “I wasn’t planning on packing until tomorrow.”

  A shadow passes across Morris’s face as he inhales, letting the reality settle over him.

  I am really leaving, and there isn’t anything that will change that.

  I go to stand, but Tiny motions for me stay put, and I place my ass back in the seat, knowing we aren’t done.

  “One more thing,” Tiny says, placing his arms on the table, flattening his palms against the wood. “We want to talk to you about the garage.”

  “The garage stays legit,” I tell him, pointing a finger at him. “It’s going to be Tamara’s business as well as mine, and I can’t have the MC interfering or fucking that up.”

  Tiny scrubs a hand down his face, cursing into his palm. “We’ll find another way to do what we need to do.”

  “Want to clue me in?”

  Tiny shakes his head. “Not yet. Once we have more information, we’ll fill you in. You’re now on a need-to-know basis.”

  I don’t say another word. I’m surprisingly okay with it. I’m more than okay. I feel at peace, not having to worry about their next scheme to make money and trying to figure out how to run the operation while staying under the radar of the Feds.

  “I want this shit thought out. I’m not leaving here, going to the other coast, just to have my ass land in jail for something stupid.”

  “It’ll be worth it,” Morris tells me, eyes pinned on mine.

  “No amount of money is worth a stint in prison, Morris. None.”

  “Everyone has a price,” Tiny adds, resting his tattooed hand over his mouth. “Even you.”

  I shake my head. “I got a good thing going and an even better future planned. Whatever you two are cooking up better be solid and low risk. I’m not going down for stupid shit. I have enough money saved to last me more than a few years, and with the shop opening and eventually that income rolling in, I don’t need whatever you’re going to offer.”

  “Never say never.” Morris smiles. “Your woman likes to live a certain way. She also likes pretty things. Can’t keep her in that life if you’re piss-poor broke, struggling to launch a business.”

  I laugh. “Tamara has her own money. She doesn’t need me to buy her expensive things. She’s the first woman I’ve ever been with who doesn’t want anything other than my time.”

  “Fuckin’ Gallos,” Morris mutters, shaking his head.

  “Now, are we done?” I raise an eyebrow, staring at the two men I spent too many nights raising hell with over the last handful of years.

  “We’re done,” Tiny announces, pushing back from the table and rising to his feet. “For now.”

  I nod, standing too. “I’ll be gone tomorrow.”

  Morris stalks toward me, stopping a foot away, and places his hand on my shoulder. “There’s no need to rush. We’re not clocking you or keeping track of your time. Leave when you want to leave. Stay if you want to stay. Just know you’re always welcome, always a Disciple.”

  We have an uncomfortable moment where Morris stares at me, swallowing down something he wants to say but doesn’t, before his hand drops down and he walks away without another word.

  “Shit’s changing. Always changing,” Tiny mumbles before walking out right behind Morris.

  I stand there for a moment, staring around the room I’ve spent countless hours in over the years.

  Time spent planning things I never thought I’d get involved with but somehow did.

  Time spent planning a future that never came to fruition.

  Time wasted, but somehow not.

  Without all the moments between these walls, I never would’ve met the spitfire waiting for me outside the door, no doubt still giving Eagle shit and loving every second of it too.

  Without my time here, I never would’ve had a future.

  5

  Tamara

  I blink, staring at Mammoth, not believing the words coming out of his sexy mouth. “Say it again,” I say softly, scared if I talk any louder, his response will change.

  “I’ve been given the go-ahead to move. We can finally start our life together.”

  My mouth opens and closes as I process what he’s telling me, but I’m not able to believe it. “Why now?”

  He smiles, brushing his fingers against my face. “Bum shoulder and my inability to ride aren’t really qualities an MC looks for in a brother.”

  “Really?” I gawk at him, still not believing what he’s telling me. “This isn’t anything to joke about, Mammoth.”

  If he’s pulling my leg, I’ll be so pissed. He wouldn’t do that to me, though, would he?

  “Look at my face, princess. Does it look like I’m joking?”

  I study his face as he stands in front of me, touching my cheek. All I see is joy and relief etched across his beautiful features. “You’re not shitting me?”

  “No.” He laughs, smiling down at me. “I’m not shitting you.”

  I leap up, throwing my arms around his shoulders and peppering his cheeks with kisses. “This is the best news ever, baby.” I squeeze him so damn tight.

  “Tam,” he says, his voice strained. “Shoulder.”

  I move back, wincing. “I forgot,” I tell him, retracting my hands. “I’m sorry.”

  “I can take a little pain for you, princess.”

  I feel as if I’m floating on air. What a whirlwind of emotions. A few days ago, he was lying in the hospital, a hole blown in his shoulder, and now he finally has his walking papers from the Disciples.

  Maybe the shooting was a blessing in disguise. If something as awful as that ever can be. But in reality, without his injury, he would’ve been required to be here at least another eight months.

  “Totally the best news ever.” I smile, unable to keep the smile from my face. “You can stay in my room at the apartment while I’m away at school during the week, until we find a place. I’ll come home every weekend.”

  Mammoth shakes his head. “Gigi and I wouldn’t make the best roommates.”

  I furrow my brows. “Why?”

  “With you away, I wouldn’t feel right staying in her place alone with her. Understand?”

  I nod. I do understand. I mean, I get the logic, but it doesn’t make it wise or reality. If I could trust anyone in the world with Mammoth, it would be her.

  “She’s never there. If you stay at our place, she’ll stay at Pike’s. End of story,” I tell him, putting my prov
erbial foot down.

  He stares at me, jaw ticking, gray eyes searching mine. “It’s still a no.”

  “Just for a few days until you find a place.”

  “Our place,” he corrects me. He smiles, pulling me closer with one arm hooked around my body, hand on my ass. “I just need a bed. We can save finding a place for later.”

  I dig my fingers into his hair, careful not to touch his shoulder.

  “I could live in the apartment above the office at the garage.”

  I chew on my lip, letting him work through that statement.

  “It’s small, but more than enough,” he says, not backing off that idea.

  “Um,” I mumble, trying to keep my face as emotionless as possible, but also knowing I’m failing miserably.

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Mammoth,” I whisper, hating to break the news to him that I am not built for the garage lifestyle.

  “Princess,” he says, smiling down at me as I stand between his legs, toying with his long brown hair.

  “I can’t live in a garage,” I tell him, ignoring the knot forming in my stomach.

  He laughs, giving my thigh a squeeze. “It won’t be forever. When you graduate, we’ll find our own place. It’s the perfect go-between for now. I’ll be at the garage all the time working anyway. There’s no point in wasting money on a rental when you’re not going to be around to enjoy it with me.”

  “So, what you’re saying is I better get used to the smell of motor oil and gasoline?”

  “I’ll burn those fancy chick candles you love so much. You can make the place smell like pumpkin whatever-the-fuck-it’s-called.”

  “Pumpkin spice,” I correct him.

  He nods, smiling back at me.

  “You love me,” I whisper.

  He nods again, brushing my hair away from my face. “Was there any doubt?”

  “The pumpkin spice sealed the deal. Before that, I wasn’t entirely convinced. But any man who agrees to burn pumpkin spice to make his woman happy has to be in love. What else could it be?”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  I laugh. “Was there any doubt?”