Page 168 of Making Choices

It takes a moment.

A moment where I second guess my joke and kick myself for being so flippant.

Then, Cherub giggles.

It’s a pure, pealing bout of amusement that breaks the tension between us. I join her, chuckling with a lightness that I shouldn’t feel in the circumstances. Despite that thought percolating at the back of my mind, I grab the moment with both hands. Humour is the best antidote to life’s ills, or so my mumma has always said. Turns out, humour shared with the woman I love has the power to make me forget every dumb thing I’ve done in my life.

“I’ll see you at the compound later.”

The smirk I offer her is blatantly sexual. “I’ll be waitin’ by the bar for an encore to last night’s performance.”

“Oh, pfft. That was one-night-only.” Cherub slaps my chest, then she pulls open her car door. Once she’s settled in her seat, seatbelt in place and her fingers wrapped around the door handle, she beams at me with a level of vintage Lilianna Mayberry mischievousness I haven’t seen in months. Her eyes flash as she quips, “Maybe you could get up there, Carter, and give me a show? That’d really get the brothers talking.”

When my mouth drops open, Cherub winks, slams her door shut, and reverses out of the garage. Grinning, I watch her leave. That woman is trouble, and she knows it. And that’s a point she drives home when she offers Toker a brief flutter of her fingers, then hits him with the bird as he pulls into my driveway on his bike. Her cousin does a double take, his answering wave droops as a dumb look that no doubt matches mine covers his face, and I laugh again.

My duchess speeds off without a backward glance.

Isaiah follows her on his Harley.

“Someone’s in a lethal mood this mornin’,” Toker comments as he hits the kill switch to cut his engine. “Must be all the blood she drew last night—gave her a taste for it.”

“What blood? She’s been fine with me.”

“Even after the present your midnight visitor left?”

I grab my helmet. “No need for her to know ’bout that.”

“Venom’s face says otherwise... pissin’ off little Cherub looks painful as fuck.”

“What?” After zipping up my leather jacket, I pull my cut into place and secure the silver clips that hold it together. “Venom was fine when I left… even if he did tempt me to shut his smartarse mouth with my fuckin’ fist every time he opened it.”

“That’s what you get for flouncin’ off with ya knickers in a twist—you miss all the fun.”

“Fuck up.” My exit from the compound wasn’t dignified, but I refuse to regret it. If I’d stayed there, the air wouldn’t have been cleared between me and my duchess. A win like that is worth everything to me. “Who set her off? What did she do to Venom’s face?”

“I’m sure none of us helped matters with our bettin’ pool.” Toker’s grin is evil. He slaps his thigh. “Jesus, bro, you missed some damn good fireworks. When his willpower finally snapped, he growled, stomped through the crowd like a fuckin’ robot—” Smirking like an idiot, he makes robotic movements with his arms, then motions like he’s slinging a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. “—slung his woman over his shoulder, and marched her, kickin’ and screamin’, into his new bedroom.” With a shake of his head, Toker adds. “My lil cuz left ten minutes later with steam comin’ outta her ears and he followed a couple’a minutes after that with a bleedin’ chin, a fat lip, scratch marks all over him, and an obviously broken heart barely beatin’ in his chest.”

The abbreviated version of the encounter that I received from my duchess last night was carefully edited to leave out the details of her vicious reaction to his jealousy. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Why would she omit things? My chest tightens and I find it hard to draw in a full breath. The way we reconnected felt authentic—hours spent watching The Originals in my bed until Cherub fell asleep curled up into my side—yet I can’t help but worry that Venom’s return will end up a repeat of the past four years where I spend my time pining away as the third wheel while they get on with building a life together. Because the reality is that if she was ready to move on from Venom, then she wouldn’t be reacting so viscerally to his possessiveness.

Would she?

As I battle to retain a poker face, Toker continues on without missing a beat. “There was bound to be an explosion when they finally came face to face... at least now Isaiah’s patchin’ in might go off without a hitch.”

The tightness in my upper body relents in the face of his optimism.

“I guess it’s good that he knows how things stand between ’em.” When Toker’s brow furrows, I deflect his attention to the patching in ceremony. Although my pride remains dented from Isaiah’s brutal assessment of my recent choices, I’m still looking forward to having him as a club brother. “Been a long time comin’ for Isaiah... would hate for anythin’ to spoil his day.”

“Speakin’ off his day,” the blond man remarks. “We should head off. Gotta tonne of shit to setup, plus we need to make sure Brutus remains oblivious to the shitstorm comin’ his way as soon as we have the numbers. Playin’ the game is the order of the day, week, month, and year.”

“Yep.”

Together, we ride toward the compound. The early Saturday morning traffic slows us down a little, but not enough to really frustrate us since we’re both proficient lane splitters. Hitting the highway that’ll take us into Fremantle, I join Toker as he settles into the middle lane.

We prop our feet up on our highway pegs and ride two-abreast.

Despite my relaxed posture, my mind is busy as I try to run through every move we have planned. Over and over, I ruminate. The odds are stacked against us, yet they’re better than I thought they’d be after Bear’s confession in the bunker at Hades’ farm. I’ve worked my magic in the background, slowly but surely manoeuvring the pieces into place, readying my brothers for the bombshells I need to drop as soon as Brutus has been deposed.

The truth about Bebe and the Maddisons.

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