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“Or the problem is the age difference, my stepfather and whatever kind of tortured backstory he has… You all seem to have one,” I countered.
Colby winked. “Makes us more interesting and a fuck of a lot deadlier.”
A high-pitched whistle cut through the air.
All heads turned in Hansen’s direction. “Grub’s up,” he announced, motioning to the table. “Get your asses in seats.”
Everyone, including some … willful children, took heed of Hansen’s order.
I stayed close to Colby like a coward, doing my best to shuffle my body alongside his like I could fucking hide behind him. Like Bennett was going to magically forget that I was the entire reason he was in this environment.
It was a shitty move. A really shitty move.
But I was focusing on being as close to Elden as I could without being obvious and the farthest I could be from Bennett to save him from any repercussions from innocent displays of affection.
It kind of worked.
Colby sat on one side of me, Lucas on the other. Elden was directly across from me. That wasn’t what I was intending since it would then become obvious as fuck that I was making a concerted effortnotto look at him.
I winced as I sat down, my body sensitive from what had just happened. Elden’s gaze found mine for a split second, but that was enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck and make my body re-experience everything he’d just done to me.
I forced my gaze down the table to where Bennett was sitting between my mother—who had obviously taken pity on him—and Hades, of all people, who was tattooed within an inch of his life and literally looked like a really hot personification of the Grim Reaper. Except with his wife and kids. For them, he melted.
For anyone else? He made it clear you only got his full attention if he was about to kill you. Or at least that was the vibe he gave off.
I smiled in apology to Bennett who, apart from looking vaguely pale, seemed to be handling himself okay.
I gave my mother a poignant look that was meant to communicate something like‘make sure he’s not traumatized for life and doesn’t hate me for bringing him here.’
She smiled and nodded as if she had heard my telepathic plea, turning to engage Bennett in conversation.
I sagged in my chair slightly. I was not out of the woods. Not even a little. I was sitting at the Christmas table with all of my new family—my grandparents were arriving later today for what would hopefully be a less chaotic dinner—having just been fucked by the object of my infatuation and was no longer wearing panties while my mother entertained the boy who was supposed to be my date.
Hansen distracted me from all of this when he stood up from his position at the head of the table, holding a beer.
All conversation quieted.
“Want to thank you all for being here,” he began in his rich, deep voice. “This is a difficult time of year for this chapter.” He looked down at his wife who reached up to squeeze his hand, her eyes glassy.
“We’ve lost a lot,” he cleared his throat. “And we will not forget those we lost. But they also would want us to celebrate them, to make the club the best it can be and make sure no one hurts this club again.”
Someone clanged their glass on the table in agreement, others nodded in a menacing and badass ways that were mighty impressive. Elden’s face remained a stoic mask.
“We are a family,” Hansen continued. “And we take care of our own. We have each other’s backs. I love each and every one of you, and I thank you for being here. I’m so fuckin’ proud of how we’ve rebuilt and what we will continue to do.” He held up his beer. “Here’s to many more years of prosperity, and most importantly, family.”
There were a bunch of “hear hears,” and, “cheers!”
I lifted my own glass, not looking at Elden and pretending what we’d just done didn’t endanger the peace of the family we were toasting to.
Dinner went off without a hitch. I managed to sink into the warmth of the love around the table, the food and the feeling of belonging I’d never felt before. Whenever we were at the table with my father and his friends or family, I’d always held my silverware—correctly, of course—in a grip tight enough to turn my knuckles white in order not to scream out loud at some of the elitist, misogynist bullshit that came out of their mouths. And when I was old enough to understand that I couldn’t,wouldn’tbe silent anymore, my protests were always followed by a moment of tense silence and my mother rushing to change the subject, her concerned gaze darting toward my father.
Sometimes my father would chastise me afterward. My mother would always step in, tell me to go to bed.
I now wondered what happened after I went to bed. What punishments my mother experienced in order to protect me.
The thought clogged my throat.
It even distracted me from Elden’s presence across the table and the general reality of my situation… That was until everyone finished eating and Bennett’s hand clasped onto my shoulder.
