Page 34 of Room Twenty: Owning Their Angel

Scope crouches down, his voice cold, “You shouldn’t say anything else about our baby or our woman.”

“Whatever,” Richard spits some blood on the floor and tries to right himself, but Scope is too close, and he doesn’t have enough room. He scoots back, dragging his ass through the blood he just spit on the floor. “She was mine first but then that little bitch ran.”

Scope stands and lands a kick to Richard’s gut that has him crying out. It’s satisfying as fuck.

“Ouch,” Scythe pipes up from the peanut gallery, “those steel toes are no fucking joke. I’d shut the fuck up and listen if I were you, Dick.”

When I glance at our brother, his eyes are practically alight with glee. It’s a little deranged, but it’s funny as hell too.

“Here’s how it’s going to be,” Bedlam’s voice is calm and cool, even as his eyes are blazing with fury, “you are going to take your sorry ass back to where you came from. You are going to forget all about our old lady. You will never set foot back in New Orleans,” Richard’s mouth flies open like he’s going to interrupt, but Bedlam just holds up a hand, “for any reason.”

“Or,” I growl, “we can take you for a little ride and then beat you to death on our land before throwing you to the gators to clean up for us.”

Richard pales even more and sits up slowly, his hand bracing against where Scope kicked him. He must see the truth of the threat on our faces, because all his bluster disappears.

“Look, I didn’t know she was your old lady. I was told she was just a whore for all you guys. She ran and left me high and dry,” my fists clench with the need to hit him again the more he talks, “and I figured it was time to collect since I found her.”

“Jesus,” Scythe blows out a breath, “you really need to learn when to shut up.” He shakes his head like he’s disappointed in Richard. “My brothers are hanging on by a thread. If you agree to the terms laid out to you about getting the fuck out of here and forgetting all about Heather, all you need to do is nod.”

Richard starts nodding like he’s a fucking bobble head. As much as I want to beat him until he can’t leave this room, it’ll only make his stay in our city longer.

“Someone will be by in the morning to make sure you’ve left,” Scope warns him. “I suggest you be long gone before they come by.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richard’s hands are shaking as he puts them in front of him.

As if that would stop us from teaching him a lesson.

I hate that this is the man who pretended to be a father figure to our Cherub for so long. I hate that her mom abandoned her.

As we turn and leave the filth to wallow in pain in his room while making his plans to leave and never look back, I think about how much my parents will love Heather. Mom will dote on her. Fuck, and that’s not even taking into consideration the little one.

Our baby has no idea how spoiled they’re about to be.

Prodigal and Wrenley have started trying for kids, but she’s not pregnant yet, as far as I know. That means our little one will be the first of the next generation of Devil’s Saints. I grin as I slide onto the back of my bike and share a chin lift with my brothers.

The whole way back to the clubhouse, I’m only thinking about our woman, our baby, and the life we’re going to lead.

CHAPTER 16

ZACH

The main room of the clubhouse is full, and everyone is smiling and having a good time. It’s just a normal party so far. No one has said a damn thing about Heather’s pregnancy or the fact that she’s sporting a giant fucking diamond ring on her finger.

When she was getting ready for the party in Bedlam’s room, which is where the four of us have basically been living, we surrounded her and then dropped down to one knee. The way her hazel eyes went wide was almost comical, but then they welled up with tears. None of us can handle when she cries.

Scope held up the ring while Bedlam grabbed her left hand. I was the one who got to speak for us.

“We love you, Cherub. We thought about asking you in front of everyone, but this is just for us. Just us.” I ran a hand over her pregnant belly where our child kicked against my touch, the movement making me smile. “You’ve given us more than you know. You give us your submission as a gift. You love us completely. The baby you’re growing and protecting is ours. There’s only one more thing you can give us.”

“Yes,” she whispered, and we chuckled.

“He hasn’t asked yet,” Bedlam teased her, and a blush started rising on her cheeks.

I cleared my throat and grinned at the shy smile on our woman’s lips. “Will you marry us, Heather?”

“Yes. The answer was always going to be yes.”

We stood and wrapped her up in a hug that wasn’t just for her, but for each other as well. It’s a little strange to feel like we have a brotherhood within a brotherhood, but it’s exactly what we have. We’re connected on a deeper level to each other than we are to any other member of the DSMC, but that doesn’t make what we have with the club any less valuable.

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