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He throws his head back and laughs. Then he raises his glass and pours some out on the ground. “Here’s to you, Anderson, may you rot in hell.”
“Here, here,” I shout, raising my own glass.
We sit there for a while longer, not saying anything but enjoying the cool breeze of the night. The guys file back inside, some staggering up the porch stairs, completely wasted. All in all, it’s been the perfect party.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Pocus asks, staring up at the sky.
I look at him slowly, waiting patiently for whatever he has to share.
“I’ve been thinking about retiring,” he whispers, as if he’s testing out the words for himself.
I sit up, the words sobering me like a cold bucket of water.
“Seriously?” I ask, unable to imagine what the club would look like without him.
He nods slowly, his eyes closed and his face turned toward the sky. He’s so deadly serious, he doesn’t even want to look at me. Shit.
“Before Daisy was born, I didn’t think I’d ever want to step down. This is my club, ya know? Then I was willing to die for it and leave my wife and daughter alone. But I didn’t die, and lying in bed for weeks healing reminded me what a colossally stupid fucking decision that would have been.”
He says this all in one breath, as if he’s been rehearsing it. He probably has, considering all the free time he’s had to do nothing but think.
“I wasn’t kidding the other day.” He chuckles. “Abigail really does want to have another baby soon. It’s too much to ask her to make sacrifices for our family if I’m not willing to do the same.” He finally opens his eyes to look at me and gauge my reaction. I guess on some level, I’ve known he would do this eventually. He was such a miserable motherfucker with this family gone, none of us want to go through that again. It leaves a question.
“Who will take your place?” I ask him. “No offense, but most of these guys aren’t exactly leadership material.”
He laughs at this, and sighs. “Seer is the obvious choice, of course. He’s second in command. And Tory has proven that she’s as willing to sacrifice for this club as I am. I’m impressed with her dedication.”
I laugh.
“So Tory will really be your replacement, but Seer will be the figurehead,” I joke.
He closes his eyes again and smiles. “That was sort of my thought process.”
I take a long sip of my drink and consider it. I love Seer, but Pocus saved me from a life of misery. He’ll always have my loyalty, no matter what.
“Well, retire all you want,” I tell him, “but you’ll always be my Prez.”
He chuckles and takes a long drag of his cigarette before blowing out the smoke slowly. We watch it swirl up toward the sky.
“Querido,” Juliana calls to me, approaching us slowly. “Our car is here. Are you ready to go?”
I stand and turn to Pocus, holding out my hand. “There will never be adequate words to thank you for what you’ve done for me.” Emotion rises in my throat.
He grabs my hand and squeezes hard, then drops it and looks at Juliana. “Take care of our boy,” he says with a wink.
“Always.” She grabs my hand and pulls me away. We climb in, ready to celebrate our forever future.
* * *
The moment the hotel elevator doors close, Juliana jumps on me, kissing me with unbridled passion. I can’t help but chuckle, supporting her weight with my arms. She has no intention of going slow tonight, but why should she? We’ve said vows and made our promises. We have the rest of our lives to go at whatever pace we want.
The doors open, and I carry her out into the hallway, stumbling toward our room. She doesn’t loosen her grip around my waist or stop rubbing herself against me as I walk. My eyes are only open to navigate us to the room, but the second we’re safely inside, I close them, enjoying the pressure of her lips against mine.
Her hands move to the sides of my face and she moans, her tongue darting in and out of my mouth as she sucks on my top lip. I press her against the door, unable to move another inch until I can rip her dress off and enter her. I let her down gently so I can pull the long dress over her head and throw it on the floor.
She’s wearing the sexiest lingerie, a complicated lacy corset that leaves little to the imagination strapped into a pair of black lace panties that hide nothing. I unfasten the corset quickly and rip the panties off, making her laugh.
“I told Abigail lingerie would be a waste of money,” she whispers against my lips. “It gets in the way of the main event.”
