Page 68 of Devil's Own: Roughneck

“My man,” I cry out as my walls go from rippling to spasming and I clamp down around him. He unleashes a torrent of orgasmic bliss inside of me, and we both collapse to the bed.

“What about your wounds?” I ask when I can finally catch a breath.

“Fucked you ten ways from Sunday last night.Nowyou ask about my wounds?”

“I couldn’t think with you fucking meten ways from Sunday.And then we passed out. So now, I’m asking.”

“Got the clear from Block before I boarded the plane, baby. He knew I was coming home to you and wouldn’t listen to him tell me anything but ‘fuck away.’ Still, I’m good.”

I roll over to kiss him. “Good. Eat your food, then we’ll shower and dress. You can take me home.”

“Thank fucking Christ,” he mutters.

He eats.

We shower.

And then he takes me home.Our home.If I start today and live to be a hundred, I’ll never be able to thank the universe enough for bringing this man into my life.

Middlesboro PD and Kentucky State Police are still investigating the drive-by in our neighborhood. As the men drove a black SUV that no one had ever seen around before, their presence never got connected to the Horde. They’ll never solve that case. My man, his brothers, and our friends saw to that.

Now that it’s safe, I contact the contractor who repaired the house from where the bullets entered for an itemized list of those repairs. We got a huge rate increase from the insurance company, which was the first claim. Rough hasn’t seemed too concerned, but I need to know the what and where, or he and I—the contractor, not Rough—will have ourselves a go around.

Given that our house is a split level, most of the damage was contained in the basement area. We had to replace a window in the front, and some furniture on the upper level also needs an upgrade. The house's front facade had to be resided thanks to the holes in the exterior walls. Maybe that’s why our rate went up.

All I know is I’m happy to be back. Happy getting back to the normality of our life. Waking up next to the same man every morning, a man who loves me. Keeping up with my online college classes. Taking my certification test—I aced that one, too—and starting a new job working with people I love to be around. My life is good and keeps getting better.

As I go about my morning routine, it hits me that we’ve been home for a couple of weeks now. The new furniture is coming today. Daniel called a meeting over a week ago for all the brothers heading up to Jack Dunham’s trial. They moved out after the meeting, which means Rough isn’t home to supervise. Not that I need him around to supervise. I’m perfectly capable of telling furniture movers where to place said pieces of furniture. But given that he’s an overprotective badass, Waite and Horace should be here anytime now.

I’ve been here without a guard since Rough left. I mean, we’re safe now. It was a big fight as Roughtriedto order me to stay at the clubhouse for the duration of his absence. But I informed him of exactly what I thought ofthatorder, and moreover, if we were safe, then why did I need to leave my home? Guess who won that argument? But to compromise, and when he insisted that no one step foot inside our house without me having protection, I agreed. He knows my past, and I know he worries it might happen again. I don’t. I’m a different Gia now.

To saythank youfor Waite and Horace taking time out of their busy schedules, I ordered tacos, beans, and rice from a local restaurant. I’m keeping them warm in the oven until we eat. So now all I need is my guards to fill the seats at my table and I’ll have fulfilled my end of the compromise.

Gatlinburg and the wedding cease to be a thing for the time being. Ending one’s enemies takes a significant chunk of time, and it’d been all hands on deck to get the businesses caught up before they left again for the trial. It sucks, but it is what it is.

The rumble of Harley engines cut out outside the house, so I know my boy and Horace have arrived. I walk down the steps to hold the door open for them. Waite kisses my cheek as he passes me. Horace nods.

“Hungry, gents? I have lunch waiting.”

“Starved,” Waite responds. “Have I told you how nice it is to have you close by again?”

“Just a few times. I hope for more reasons than that I feed you.”

“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, Gia,” Horace says, and okay. He’s not wrong, but I should already have my boy’s heart, seeing as I gave him his life and devoted mine to him.

“Wash your hands first,” I order, stepping around the men to pull the warm pans from the oven. Both men smile indulgently as they make their way up the stairs, but I’ll point out that they both wash their hands before grabbing plates of food. I fill my plate and sit at the table next to Waite, across from Horace.

“It’s gonna be some caravan, all the brothers and their families heading up to the trial,” Horace says between bites of taco. Clearly, he never had a mother remind him not to talk with his mouth full.

“The families stayed home. The men have been gone for over a week. Only Rae and Danni tagged along because they both have to testify against that sick fuck. I have to work.”

“Really?” he asks. “I didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t know?” I ask, because how didn’t he catch on that his brothers were gone?

He shakes his head. “Been working a ton of overtime. Getting back to the club late. All the brothers involved in the trial have homes adjacent, or off the compound. Since we own several different businesses, I didn’t think anything of it. I figured they were home with their families.”

Okay. That makes sense. “I think the men were going to put you and Waite on guard duty again until they returned, but we protested. I live here—notat the clubhouse. The women wanted our own beds. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten a call from Daniel, erm—Vlad—about that. You know, keeping an eye out.”

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