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Nightmares & Daydreams

Page 28

by Crystal Nichols

“Everything okay?” Lilah asked once she saw me.

“Bash’s garage got hit by the storm. Leaks and cleanup needed. Gonna swing by and help.”

“Be safe. Text me when you get home. I’m sure there are trees down from the storm,” Lilah said nervously. I walked over and grabbed her hand, pulling her into my arms. She turned her head, flashing me a panicked look about Mom seeing us.

“I’ll call you when I get to the clubhouse. In the meantime, text me and let me know what nights you’re free this week .” I kissed her before she could protest.

“Don’t let Ma burn the house down,” I said as I pulled away, Mom looking between the two of us, holding back her words like she might combust.

“Oh, hush. Now you don’t get any cupcakes. Lilah’s right. Be careful on those roads. I’ll talk to you later.” The look Mom gave me spoke volumes. I had some explaining to do.

Chapter 16

Scythe

A little over a week had passed since the night of the storm. The night I gave Lilah a choice, I had claimed her as mine from that moment forward. It was the final weeks of the semester, so Lilah’s schedule was even crazier than usual. We had agreed to hold off on the first date until the semester ended. Her course load over the summer was lighter as she used that time to get some extra shifts.

In the days after the storm, a lot of time was spent cleaning up and repairing any damage at both the clubhouse and our businesses. The garage and tattoo shop both needed some repairs.

Over the next few days, I made sure to stay in contact with Lilah. If we hadn’t seen each other that day, she would call me before bed, let me know how her day was and that she was okay.

With our official first date put off, that didn’t change my need to see her, spend time with her, talk to her. Rather than looking surprised, Lilah seemed relieved to see me when I showed up during her shift at the bar that week. When she spotted me, a huge smile spread across her face from across the room. It took a few minutes, finishing taking orders and clearing empties, before she could head over to where I was seated.

“You’re back,” she replied, her cheeks flushed as she stood next to me, dropping her tray onto the bar.

“What do you need, Lilah?” the bartender asked, eyeing me with curiosity.

“Two buds, a Jack and coke, and a round of shots for table two,” she rattled off before her eyes returned to me.

“Yeah. Wanna keep you company and keep an eye on you,” I replied, and her cheeks flushed. Reaching for her, my hand wrapped around her hip, pulling her between my legs. Before she could protest, I kissed her, needing to, as much for myself as everyone else. I would jump on any excuse to touch her, but the added need of sending a message to all the drunk assholes out there thinking of trying something was definitely an added bonus.

The following week I showed up again. This time with Bull in tow. Lilah looked pleased when she spotted me, and when she was able to make it over, it was clear when she recognized Bull. She stumbled for a second before gathering herself and heading toward us.

“Hi,” she said, coming to a stop next to me. I reached for her, my arm around her waist as I pulled her in for a quick kiss. Like oxygen, I needed it. Each day was getting harder to go without her.

“Angel. This is Bull. He’s one of my club brothers and my best friend.” Bull’s eyes widened a fraction before focusing on Lilah.

“I tried to tell him to play it cool, but I don’t know why I thought that was a feasible option. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard only good things from both Beth and this besotted fool.” Lilah snorted at the term, but I didn’t flinch. Why would I hide my feelings? Why would I make Lilah have to guess where I stood? I always wanted my girl to know how much I wanted her, wanted everyone around us to know that she was mine.

The night passed quickly, Bull adding an extra element I hadn’t realized I would enjoy. Lilah relaxed around him almost immediately, taking delight in asking questions that he would answer. Intentionally, he would embellish or use it to tell some sort of story to either embarrass or fluster me. It was a nice night. It made me happy, seeing the two get along. Not to mention, we’d had a few rough days earlier in the week; Crow had popped up again, and everyone was on edge.

During church the day before, Reaper stood up, his proud demeanor looking chipped, his shoulders bent in.

“I think most of you know by now that when I met my Old Lady, she was married to someone else. Her husband was a cop, an abusive asshole who took advantage of his power. He kept her isolated, her attempts at getting help ignored.” Guard, who had technically retired from his club position, was sitting in on the meeting, his history with the club superseding any official titles.

“The whole town was corrupt, each person greedier than the next. The only way it had a chance of surviving was to burn everything to the ground. Start fresh,” Guard chipped in, his fierce expression lingered in my memory. He was typically laid-back, leaving the worrying to Reaper or Bash. The memory of that town brought something out in him.

“We cleaned house before we left. Or at least, that’s what we thought. Turns out, Crow managed to find some family members on his paternal side,” Reaper informed us, his eyes downcast.

Crow was born shortly after the clubhouse was set up. The group agreed to lay roots so their President could have somewhere to raise his family. It wasn’t until Crow’s betrayal was unveiled that we had learned Reaper wasn’t his biological father.

“His uncle and cousin have been in and out of jail for everything from possession to kidnapping. He also has at least one half brother. We’re still figuring the rest out. We have reason to believe he connected with his uncle, Wyatt Beck. He has ties up and down the coast with different clubs and gangs, allowing him passage and assistance when needed. This would be an avenue they could both cash in on. Not to mention, it would allow Crow to leave the country. He could be hiding out in Mexico or Canada, at this point.”

Different teams were assigned to follow up on a variety of leads before we pursued the new trail. The idea of any upcoming runs caused me anxiety. Before, I had nothing to worry about. Besides the team of aid workers I had prepared for Mom, I knew the club wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

With Lilah, though, it was different. This fear of not returning, of missing out on the chance to experience everything that was her and what we could do together, haunted me. They bit at my heels, urging me to work faster; harder. Quicker deaths, not drawing out my…sessions. The sooner I brought all of this to an end, the easier it would be to pursue her.

When the meeting ended, I reached for my phone to check in with her. It was getting harder and harder to go any length of time without talking to my girl. I had to know she was okay, to make sure she was taking care of herself. Sending off a quick text, I checked my inbox and saw a message from Fee, asking me to stop by. I agreed quickly, not thinking twice.