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Later That Night
With everyone patched up and the three clubs here in a period of mourning and celebration, we’re drinking and spending time together. Heavy rock music blasts through the speakers. Jaz and Storm have prepared food, and it’s being shared around the clubhouse.
Right now, there is a real party atmosphere.
Earlier, we had our memorial moments for our fallen brothers, and now we’re trying to lighten the mood and enjoy this moment in history.
The club took down the Russian Bratva.
Those fuckers have been a pain in our asses for as long as we can remember. And now we don’t have to worry about Anton coming back at us again, especially because his remains were fed to La Fin. There was no way the club was going to risk any chance of Anton making a return, and with him in pieces inside the club’s alligator, we feel secure in that knowledge. Now, we can run the streets of New Orleans without worrying about backlash or street warfare.
NOLA Defiance is on top, and now that we’ve had time to let thatreallysink in—damn, it feels good.
It’s something Reaper could never accomplish as president, but fuck, he would be proud to know his legacies have been able to carry it out. I can’t help but smile as I sit back, looking over all the Defiance members who are having a good time. Sure, Houston is struggling with the loss of their president and the injuries to Wraith. But Wraith will be fine in a few weeks, and their club can rebuild their ranks.
Theywillbe okay.
Zero, on the other hand, sits alone by the bar, drinking his sorrows away.
You have to feel for the guy, losing his brother in a battle he couldn’t fight. The heaviness of that must be weighing heavily on him.
As I sit on South’s lap, he rests his hand on my upper thigh. He’s had a few drinks tonight, and I don’t mind because he needs to relax. He slides his hand higher, whispering against my ear, “Did I tell you how fucking good you looked when I got back today?”
I turn to face him. “You did not. But I am pretty sure you weren’t in any fit state when you got back to be thinking that way, sir.”
His hand shifts higher. “Well, angel, I am thinking it now.” His lips graze my neck, his bearded chin tickling my skin as I let out a heady exhale.
“South, we need to celebrate with the guys. We can do this when you’re healed,” I whisper.
His eyes meet mine, desperation clear. “I need you, Ingrid!”
I nod in understanding and move from his lap, taking his hand in mine. He stands, and we go to walk off as Hurricane turns the music down, sending a whistle through the room and gaining our attention.
South groans but moves in behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach tightly, his erection poking me in the ass. I grin, feeling his hard-on, and wriggle my ass against him, trying to get some friction for him without being obvious. He growls against my ear, biting down on my earlobe. “You keep doing that, angel, and I don’t care who’s watching. I will fuck you in front of everyone here.”
I grin and stop, even though he’s slowly grinding his cock against me now as Hurricane and City step forward.
“We know today was fuckin’ hard on all of us. Houston, you especially. Words can’t describe the hurt we feel for y’all…” Hurricane takes a moment. “But through the fuckin’ shit, there were some acts of bravery that need to be acknowledged. Alpha… you flew your club into the line of fire, then literally went down in flames and still came through it all. We thank you for your help and for puttin’ your men first and goin’ down with the ship, or helo as it were. You’re a brave motherfucker, and if I am honest, we woulda been fucked if you didn’t show up when you did.”
Alpha raises his glass to Hurricane. “You put in the call for help. We’re always gonna show up. Just like Houston. We’re a unit. We don’t abandon each other. We fight for each other, no matter what.”
South tenses his grip on me, like something that was said has struck a chord with him. I just can’t tell what. I go to turn to look at him but don’t get the chance.
Hurricane continues, “In the theme of not abandonin’ each other, one brother stood by and helped another out when shit got tough, even though he was strugglin’ with his own concussion and injuries. He stayed and stopped South from being killed.”
I tense, my stomach in knots at hearing how close it was for South. He holds me tighter, pressing a tender kiss on my neck. “I’m okay, angel. I’m okay,” he whispers as if he knows he needs to settle my nerves.
“Jesse, get your ass up here,” Hurricane grunts out to our prospect.
Jesse hesitates but slowly hobbles to where City and Hurricane are standing.
“Jesse, you stood up and protected a patched brother from certain death. You’ve shown time and time again your loyalty to this club. For that, you’ve earned your patch and your Road Name of… Maverick.”
Jesse smiles as Bayou comes out with his official club cut and patches. He helps him shrug on the cut, and Jesse shakes his head as Clover rushes to her brother’s side to shake his hand. “Thanks, brothers. I’m not gonna let you down.”
Hurricane dips his chin. “I know you won’t. We called you Maverick because Mavericks tend to be innovative, influential, darin’, and direct, with a remarkably high tolerance for takin’ chances. You took a chance on movin’ you and your sister to New Awlins and into the club. You made a life here, and you fight so fuckin’ hard to ensure every one of us is safe. You’re a Maverick, Jesse, and we’re fuckin’ lucky to have you as part of Defiance.”
We all cheer and then congratulate Maverick.
