Page 9 of Infected By Virus

VIRUS

The guys were hanging out in the rec area when Hook came through the office door looking for Santa.

“What’s up?”

“Squatch says to tell you that chick from the diner just pulled up. The camera feed must be fucked because when she got out of the car, dayum, she’s too hot for you, old man.”

Virus laughed at the same time Santa dropped the pool cue and rubbed his hands together.

“What would your ol’ lady say about you checking out women through the security cameras?” Outlaw asked Hook.

“My ol’ lady knows I only have eyes for her, besides, she’d be the first to point out a pretty lady. I just don’t understand what they all see in him.” Hook nodded toward Santa, who was making his way to the office.

“I’ve been telling you boys I’ve got more game in my little finger than any damn one of you got in your whole body. And for the last fucking time, I’m not that damn old.”

“I gotta see this.” Vice dropped his pool cue on the felt too and followed Santa out.

With the men in the office, the rec area was eerily silent. If he were in a scary movie, that would’ve been the moment before the jump scare.

There was no smack of pool balls, no raucous laughter, no sounds of sex. Their club had really changed over the last few years, especially since the president and enforcer got domesticated and Croon’s sister had taken up residence.

Now when it was loud, most days included ol’ ladies chatting and a kid’s laughter. They even had a schedule. Yep, an MC with a fucking schedule of when the club girls could be out and about scantily clad and the men could do whatever they fucking wanted in their own common areas.

It irritated Virus to no end, not because of the obvious reason, but because it made him think about Rae. He wasn’t ashamed of his club or his lifestyle, but he’d definitely want a schedule in place if she were around. Watching Santa getting blown wasn’t something anyone should have to witness.

Virus smiled in spite of himself. Instead of remembering the last time he saw her with tears streaming down her face, the last time he’d told her he loved her came to mind.

It had been a great night in the bed of his truck. They’d made love under the stars, and it had felt perfect. With both their bodies spent, he held her close and sleepily whispered words of love as she drifted asleep in his arms. If he’d had known then that would be the last time they’d share those words, he would’ve said them louder, more decisively. Shouted them until she was deaf.

Those three syllables hadn’t crossed his lips since. That was another thing he felt was only for her. Rae still owned his heart … and she always would.

“Right this way.”

He heard Santa say from behind him. He leaned further over the coffee table, typing on his computer, tuning Santa out. He had no interest in seeing Santa’s latest conquest or whatever else was going on. But another voice was the next to pierce his brain.

“Um, Darrin.”

Virus froze. It had to be all in his head. It had to be. There was no way Rae was there. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard her voice; however, it was the first time he’d heard it normal and not laced with tears. Not to mention the first time stone-cold sober.

After waiting for another second or two, she didn’t speak again. Satisfied it was all in his head, he began to type again. Someone reached over his shoulder and slapped his laptop closed.

“What the hell?” He jumped up from the sofa.

“Show some respect. The lady was speaking to you.”

When he turned around, his world came to a crashing halt. It was so abrupt he damn near swayed on his feet.

Rae stood there looking as beautiful as he remembered. Curvy and delicious. Her soulful blue eyes watched him with a mix of emotions that were hard to sort through. He didn’t know what to say. A million things swarmed him all at once, but he dismissed them all as inadequate.

“You changed your hair.”

Of all the things he could’ve … should’ve said, that wasn’t even top one hundred. The fact she had added purple to her blonde hair and undercut the sides with designs shouldn’t even matter. What mattered was, she was there, in front of him.

She’d finally come back.

He remembered a friend telling him that old saying about if you love something, set it free. He’d done just that, for her, not for himself, but she came back. That meant she was his.

His to cherish and love.

---