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Whelp, it looks like it’s a night filled with blue balls for me.
After raining hell on Bellamy for her perceived fuck up. Our daughter looked wrecked knowing her mother’s pissed, and I felt bad for the kid because the two of them rarely butt heads. Their relationship is nothing like the one Princess had with her mother. Savvy and Bell are a team. They talk shit out even if they are annoyed or don’t agree with one another. Savvy has never been one to bulldoze over or try to manipulate our kids to get them to do what she wants or to agree with her. To see her dealing with them today was different. When Savvy spoke, it was like a flip had switched. She was no longer my Savvy. She was the right hand of the Organization, cold, calculating, and matter-of-fact. Did I want to question her and them about why they’re acting like Victor coming here is the end of the world? Hell yeah, I did. Deciding to be smart, I keep my mouth shut and take in whatever information I can.
Once the kids were gone, Savvy paced the length of the living room for a good long while. Now she is staring out the living room window. With a long breath, Savvy turns to me, her eyes assessing, and colder than I’ve seen in a long time, and I’m taken aback. I return her stare with questioning and cautious eyes. I know to be patient and wait her out. She will tell me what I need to know in her own time.
“He knows more about the situation than he’s letting on. That much is clear. He wouldn’t come here otherwise. His inserting himself in organization dealings is not something he does. Not since…” She shakes her head, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Being his right hand, the organization and its dealings sit squarely on my shoulder and have been for years. As you’ve probably figured out, my father prefers to focus on Petrov Bratva, and leave the witchy crazy shit to me.” She says the last part is a Russian accent and chuckles. “His insistence on coming here means… things may get bloody, and that is not something I want around you, the club, or our grandkids.”
That last statement alone makes her coldness and anger make a shit ton more sense. She wants nothing to touch our family. Fuck. She’s not wrong Victor Petrov is the worst of the worst and when he is involved shit gets national news type of bloody.
“Lockdown?” I question her.
“No, not yet. I don’t think things will get that far, but I would prepare the brothers and the club, just in case.” She says, releasing a shuttered breath.
“I know you say you got this, Sav, but…” I stand, walking over to her. “…come here woman” my words have her sending me an exasperated look, but I’m undeterred. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me.
“I know you got this. Whatever the fuck this is. I never doubt that about you. But Savvy, you need to know something. I will burn this motherfucking world to ashes before I let anyone hurt you or this family. I’ve lived without you once and I’ll be damned if I ever do that shit again. I know you think you need to keep the organization and the club separate…” My words trail off and she stiffens because this isn’t the first time I’ve suggested this. But with who we are, we can’t keep going on the way we have. Her leaving to handle her business and me being here handling mine. We’re both important in our perspective roles being the heads of two of the largest underworld organizations. And at some point, people will recognize that even if we aren’t technically working together, we are together. And that can lead to shit at either of our doorsteps. Case in point, this shit Savvy is dealing with now and her father coming here because of it. So my suggestion shouldn’t be so off the mark or easily brushed off.
“Gunner,” she says, slight annoyance in her voice.
“No, Savvy. You are my woman. Mine. And I fucking hate that you live this double life. It scares the fuck out of me every time you and our kids leave on missions. Dealing with the organization and being the club’s first lady is a lot and with this new shit...” I release a breath and shake my head. “You’ve got to learn to share the burden, baby. We’ve had this conversation when Blaze and the boys patched into the club. You shut it down, then, and I let you because I understood where you were coming from. Since then, Blaze has come to me telling me that some of your teams have been asking questions. They are wondering if it is a possibility to do the same as he and his sister have. They like what the club is all about and...”
Fuck. Probably not the time to bring this up. Blaze and I’ve been trying to figure out how to broach the subject with Savvy and get her to see our side of things. When Savvy’s breath hitches, and not in a good way. I know I may have fucked up a little. This is not the way I wanted her to find out about those conversations, but fuck it. I continue, knowing this will not end well, especially with her already being pissed at our kid.
“It makes sense. You know it does. Going back and forth from here to the New York base is wearing on you and the kids, even though none of them want to say shit about it. I’m not saying the club has to be involved or that your people have to patch in. Call me selfish, but I need you here...”
“I’m here.” She says it is a way that makes me feel like I’ve accused her of some heinous crime.
“Yeah, baby, you’re here, but not every day and not every night, and that shit doesn’t work for me.”
When her eyes narrow, I know she is going to spew some bullshit. So when she shoves at my chest, I take a step back, preparing myself for the inevitable. That’s something I’ve had to learn quickly about my woman. Her and my relationship has a tainted past, which is why she responds differently to and with me. With anyone else, she hears what they have to say and thinks before she speaks. With me, not so fucking much. Mostly, I’m a patient man when she flips her shit. Most times I feel like I deserve her wrath even if in a particular situation I may not deserve it.
Savvy’s eyes are cold when she glares and narrows as she pulls her full lips into a thin line.
“First, let’s not pretend that you aren’t suggesting this shit because I’m not in your bed every night. Seriously, Gunner? My work, the organization, its location, and my teams aren’t any of your fucking business. I handle shit the way I do for a reason. There is so much more to my world than you could ever understand. Which is why I don’t need Mr. Big Strong MC president telling me what I should and shouldn’t do with my organizations and those who work for me. You and our son are out of your rabid ass minds if you think you are going to force my hand by involving my teams. I told him when he came to me why I didn’t feel it was a good idea. And his ass should have left it at that, not go run to Daddy because he didn’t get the answer he wanted. And when did that become a fucking thing? When did you become fucking father of the year who can fix shit and handle me? Huh? Because we both know you are far from it…” She must feel the change in the air because her eyes flash.
Oh fuck no.
“You fucking done, Svetlana?” I say, my eyes cold, taking a step away from her. Because what the actual fuck?
I don’t know what she sees in my eyes or hears in my voice. Whatever it is, it has her face softening and her taking a step toward me. I raise my hand and shake my head. Fuck that. This isn’t the first time she’s thrown shit in my face about our past. And mostly, I get it. She knows how I feel about my relationship with our kids, especially Blaze. She knows how hard I fucking worked to have a better relationship with him. That he even talks to me, deems me worthy enough of discussing his family business and how he feels about shit is a fucking miracle. And Savvy throwing shit in my face, pisses me the fuck off.
With a shake of my head. I don’t stop when I hear her calling out for me. Naw, she can fuck off with that bullshit. I stride to my bike and straddle it. Ignore her as I put my keys in the ignition, reeve the engine, and ride away from my home and my woman. I know myself well enough to know I will say some shit that will have us going at it in all the wrong ways. She can’t keep doing this shit. I sure as shit can’t keep feeling like a piece of shit that abandoned his family.
Nineteen
GUNNER
?
Another rev of my engine pushes me and my bike further down the coast. My head is all over the place, which is why I pay little attention when headlights reflect off my side mirrors. When the fuckers flick on their high beams, I’m tempted to give the fucker a two-finger salute. Fucking pricks and their high beams. Releasing the throttle to slow my speed, going twenty miles over the limit doesn’t seem fast enough for this prick. In my side mirror, I clock the blacked-out SUV a car's length behind me. It doesn’t seem to gain speed, but they don’t back off and their high beams remain on. With a shake of my head and not in the mood for this shit, or to have some prick decide to have a fit of road rage. I raise my arm, signaling for them to pass me, since they are in such a fucking rush. After the second wave, the high beams turn off and the fucker doesn’t pass. They slow their speed, allowing for distance to fall between us.
Fucking idiots.
With a shake of my head, I rev my engine, punching it a little harder than before. Checking my mirror once more, the SUV seems to have fallen back even more. Probably some fuck head teenagers, being shits for the fun of it. I guess the fuckers aren’t in a rush after all.
My phone I’ve been ignoring for the last few hours vibrates in my cut. Thoughts of the SUV leave me as I remember the day. Fuck, I need to get my ass to the clubhouse for church. I may have felt a type of way about my woman, but I still have a club to run. Our shit will get figured out–eventually. One thing is for damn sure, I’m not letting it go. If Savvy thinks I’m going to let her shut me out on this, she is fucking crazy. We’ve been apart for twenty years and I’ll be damned if her work or mine will keep this fissure of distance between us remain. She has to know that even if I’m not on her level, I’m still a force to be reckoned with in the underworld. My club and I aren’t small fish in the grand scheme of things, and I know she knows that. LSMC could be a resource to her if she would just stop being stubborn and accept that. And if I have to make her understand that, I fucking will. I’m past tired of pussyfooting around with Savvy. I’ve taken shit at her pace since she returned, but she has to know that isn’t me. Only for her, ever only for her.
Ignoring my phone isn’t something I do, but I needed some time to think and come up with a plan to get my woman to see shit my way because she will see shit my way. When my phone vibrates again, I curse, knowing that it has to be important if they are being so fucking persistent. I release the throttle of my bike and angle to the side of the road. After coasting, I pull to a stop, put my kickstand down, and reach into my cut for my phone.
