Page 109 of Daughters of Chaos

His hands massage the globes of my ass from his spot behind me, making me arch into him. Just as he starts to slide one of them forward between my thighs, he pulls away. A whimper escapes my lips as I frown back at him.

Mason's answering smirk is deliciously frustrating as he tells me, "You aren't the only one who knows how to tease, Phoenix."

With that, he disappears outside, leaving me alone with my now dripping core and a mind full of dirty thoughts.

65

Raven

Ash, rubble, broken bricks and beams. That's all that used to be left of the bar, which served as one of my first happy places here. My sanctuary in the chaos that surrounded me. Now, the lot is empty, finally cleared away for the new structure to be built.

Miguel, Jesse, and I have been planning everything for the bar's revival. After the Bastards burned it down, I'm sure they felt they'd won after taking from us something so dear. Now, look where they are—ashes in the wind and a stain on tattered soil.

They tried to take from us, tried to break us down, but they failed. We overcame everything they threw at us with fervor. Inthe process, we showed every rival club around what happens when they mess with the Sons (and daughters) of Sorrow.

No matter what they do, we'll always bounce back. We'll always rise from the ashes stronger than before.

Miguel and the contractor are going over building plans when Dad rolls up on his Harley, and yeah, it's still weird as fuck thinking of him asDadinstead of Viper, but after everything that's happened, he's earned it. And that's not the strangest change that's happened lately. The warm body lingering at my back is still the most surprising.

Him.Reaper.

What he's become to me is the one thing I never saw coming. I thought for sure that my cold and stony heart was too closed off to feel anything like this, but he's proven me wrong. We haven't declared anything other than our claim on one another. That four-letter word has never escaped his mouth or mine in the time we've been together, but I feel it. I see it in his eyes and in the way he gravitates around me.

We're like two magnets drawn together by this invisible force we fought for so long. When I first got here, I hated him, or at least I thought I did. Maybe I just wanted to hate him so I could hate this place and the club as ferociously as I thought I should. I wanted to hate the Sons and the dad who'd abandoned us. I wanted to hate everything and everyone in this place, but I couldn't. Not in the end.

I somehow found my place here, and the club found a place inside my heart of stone. Nix and Mom were the only family I knew before. Now, that family has grown tenfold. The Sons somehow found a way to etch themselves deep within me and Nix, marking us as theirs and vice versa. They'd do anything to protect us; I know that now, and I'm more than grateful to have them on our side.

The gravel crunches under Dad's feet as he approaches, eyeing Reaper with every step. He still doesn't seem amused that his enforcer started shacking up with me, but he hasn't rallied against it either. Instead, he gives us curious but cautious once-overs from time to time, and the speech he gave Nix and Raptor when he found out they were together was shared with us too.

It was shorter and far more awkward, consisting of sharp glares and a quick message of "If you hurt her, the boys know where to bury your body." Reaper's grunt and glare of his own was his only response until I added that his corpse would be buried without a cock if he ever betrayed me. That earned me a tiny twitch of his lips and an eye roll but made Dad's face turn forty shades of purple and green.

I couldn't tell if he wanted to yell, puke, or punch Reaper in the dick for my caveat and all that it implied. To his credit, he did none of those things, instead opting to walk away, mumbling curses under his breath. Call me twisted, but I still enjoy riling him up like that. If he wants to comment on my personal life, he deserves to feel at least a little uncomfortable.

When Dad reaches us, he tips his chin to Reaper in acknowledgment before crossing his arms and asking Miguel how everything is coming with the bar. I listen in, feeling the excitement and anticipation growing inside me as he shares our plans for the new place. I can't wait until it's done.

Since my recovery, I've picked up a few shifts at the gym, teaching self-defense classes. It's been a nice change, and I may continue even after the bar is complete. After all, both places helped me feel like I belonged here. They were my happy places, my home away from home.

Huh, home . . .

Shit, that's what this place has become. My home. I've found a home and built a family—sure, it's one big, crazy, fucked up family, but it's mine—and I wouldn't have it any other way.

My neck starts to tingle with awareness as a car pulls up, and a man steps out, calling Dad over to him. My stomach starts to flip as I recognize his face, Sheriff Harding. Even out of uniform, I recognize him. His thick mustache, deep scowl, and penetrating gaze give him away.

Wariness creeps into my bones as I watch their exchange. The club hasn't been implicated in the mess with the Bastards so far, but that doesn't mean things will stay that way. It only takes one piece of evidence that screamsSons of Sorrowfor everything to come crashing down. Even with the men Dad has on the inside, nothing is guaranteed. And the Sheriff has been gunning for this club for a long while now. I know he'd love to be the one to put them all behind bars.

I keep my face neutral as I strain my ears, hoping to catch wind of what they're discussing. I'm listening for the dreaded confirmation—the sign that my whole world is about to be turned upside down again.

"Don't know if you've heard or not," the Sheriff starts, "but your littlegangproblem has been dealt with."

Dad feigns surprise and confusion. "Whaddya mean?"

The Sheriff scoffs, "The Desert Bastards. You know, the fuckers who shot up your house and set fire to your bar—they're dead and gone."

"That so?"

Harding eyes Dad with suspicion as he continues. "Yep, seems someone decided to kill the whole lot of 'em." His gaze narrows on the Sons' president.

Dad shakes his head as his eyes shoot to his forehead. "Well, ain't that somethin'. Guess that bitch, Karma really does come around."

---