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But what was the motivator for these women to give up a life of relative normalcy to worrying about guns and kidnappings and having to drop everything to go hide out at some camp with armed guards and razor wire?
Was it love?
It had to have been love.
The kind of which I wasn't familiar with.
I'd loved Jacob's father in an immature way, full of superficiality and the infatuation that came with being intimate with someone for the first time. It wasn't a genuine love. I don't even remember being all that upset when he decided he didn't want to be with me anymore.
And since then, there had simply never been time for things like falling in love.
I couldn't wrap my head around it.
But it had to be the reason, right?
People killed for love, went to war for love. Certainly, they could become "old ladies" to outlaw bikers as well for it. With all the unpleasantness that entailed.
"I'm sure you want to reconnect with your friends," I said, feeling like that word was clumsy on my tongue. Friends didn't do the things these men had done for him, family did. "I will go back to Colson's room and get out of your way. I'm glad you're okay. And thank you for being more patient with my kid than even I am."
With that, I made my way out, finding Jacob with Huck on the couch.
"Bud, you want to come with me to watch a movie in Colson's room?"
"I'm going to set him up in the barracks," Colson said, coming up behind me. "You will be hanging there with Brooks and Finn and Malc for the time being."
"What about Fallon?" I asked under my breath.
"His father needs him for now. Don't worry, nothing is going to happen to Jacob."
"Okay," I agreed, following Colson back to his room.
A nervous skittering moved through my belly. He hadn't slept with me the night before, choosing instead to do guard duty so the other brothers could have a bit of a celebration.
He wouldn't say it, but I was pretty sure he did so because he felt some sort of guilt over not having been more of an active part in the recovery efforts, that his knuckles weren't torn up, and his face wasn't busted.
"You can take a breath now," Colson said as soon as the door was closed and we were officially alone.
"That is one intimidating man. Even when he's being nice, he's terrifying."
Colson gave me a small smile. "Jacob did a good thing, though. That had to have been good to hear."
"He still left him there to some unknown fate."
"Yeah, but he's young. Your brother is an authority figure. He didn't feel like he could stop it. But he did know he could ease the man's pain. He did that. Some hard work and some karate and something to focus on other than joining a gang, and he will be a different kid in a year's time."
"From your mouth to God's ears. I can't do another year of being worried sick about him while I am at work. You know, if I still have a job."
"Come here," Colson said, dropping down on the bed, kicking out of his shoes, then laying back, patting his chest.
I shouldn't have.
Things were crazy.
Things were about to get crazier before they calmed down.
I should have been figuring out what the future held for me and Jacob. And for me and Colson.
But there was no stopping my legs; they had a mind of their own, carrying me over to the bed, climbing over his reassuringly strong body, and dropping down on him, taking a deep breath, breathing him in, feeling his arms go around me.
"It will all work out," he told me, hand moving up and down my spine.
"You don't know that. But thanks for saying it anyway."
"I do. Because you will make sure it does. You're not a quitter."
"How long do you think we will be here? It would be nice to go back to normal life. This is nice," I said, tapping his chest, "but it would be nice to be back home, see my mom, maybe have you and Jelly over for dinner."
"That would be nice."
"Then maybe we can, I don't know, go out. Be adults. Without kids. Can you imagine?" I asked, smiling at the idea, realizing I didn't own a damn thing that could be worn on a date. I think I had one black dress in my closet. I'd bought it to go to a funeral five years ago. Which meant it wasn't so much sexy as, well, matronly. It had sleeves for goodnessakes.
"I haven't taken a woman out on a date in, shit, I don't even remember. I'm pretty sure eating is involved, though."
"Eating should always be involved in any activity."
"You don't want to go dancing, do you?" he asked, grimacing.
