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“You’re not alone in this nightmare anymore, Half-pint. When I’m here and you or I need to do this, we’ll do it together, not alone, you hear me?”
A tear streaks down my cheek and I nod. “Together.” He squeezes my hand, let’s go, and reaches inside his cut before pulling out a stack of papers. I’m surprised when the others pull out stacks of their own papers.
“Reaper’s right, you aren’t alone in this, Wildcat. We’re all here for you, for each other. You have us to lean on for support, too. We all took a page out of your book, so to speak. So tonight, we’re all burning our black journal pages.”
A strained chuckle escapes, and I try to blink back my tears. Sniffling, I tear another section off and ball it up before tossing it into the fire.
Soon, we’re all laughing when it turns into a competition for most impressive or ridiculous throws and the laughs continue even when the pages are long burned to ashes.
Once night falls, Bones and Loki light off fireworks since Andre had to spend the 4thof July couped up in the hospital.
As I lay on a blanket stretched out on the grass in between my men and watch the array of colors light up the sky, my hands settle on my stomach. The next time I’ll be watching fireworks, our babies will be here. A tear escapes as my mind goes back to how easily I could have lost them because of the wreck. Or lost them if my torture had been more severe. How I could have lost Andre if he’d succumbed to his wounds. Those bastards are going to pay for what they did to us.
I feel both of my men’s hands taking one of mine and they squeeze as they both roll on their sides, facing me.
“Soon, Wildcat,” Thor whispers as he kisses my temple.
“Your beast will have its vengeance soon, Spitfire,” Dragon says before kissing me.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
After breakfast, I excuse myself to Thor’s office and lock the door.
Time to get ready.
Thankfully, my hair is already done. After showering this morning, I put it in a high ponytail and then braided it before winding it up into a bun.
Since I helped cook breakfast, I had worn a long sundress that would cover my leg. I found out the hard way that if I was in the kitchen for too long, my stitches would become irritated by the extra heat and increased movement if I had gauze covering them. Ever since then, I try to wear sundresses when I’m cooking so I can let my leg breathe. Then if I’m going to be doing other stuff that day; I change after breakfast and tape on my gauze padding to protect the stitches.
I get to work putting gauze down and taping them in place. On my thigh, I put extra gauze on as an added protection in case my movements start aggravating the stitches later on. Once all the gauze is taped down, I tape down some cling wrap over the top in an attempt to prevent our guests’ bodily fluids from giving me an infection. This was a suggestion the nurses told us to do when my men needed to take showers after they were shot. If it’ll help keep the water out, then it should be a good preventative measure to keep bodily fluids out of my wounds.
Clothing-wise for today, I opt for fitted black yoga pants, a scoop neck red fitted long-sleeve shirt to protect the wounds on my arms and over it, a fitted black t-shirt with the club logo on it. The guys ordered me a bunch of club shirts back when I said yes to being their Old Lady. I’d taken it a step further and ordered some other sizes as well for whenever the guys decide to ask someone to be their Old Lady.
Smiling, I pull out the box I’d stashed in here earlier. I’d read a book not too long ago by M F Moody called Family Justice. I’m a sucker for mafia and MC books as well as my PNR RH books, but there’s one thing from Family Justice that I instantly wanted when I read it. Bethany’s shoes with a metal needle heel. Only I wanted mine in a boot version. It took a while, but I finally found some that would come the way I wanted them and I’m absolutely in love with them. My men are the only ones that know about them so far because they were there when I opened them. Let’s just say there was some really hot sex with me in just my cut and those knee-high boots.
That memory triggers another of Travis cutting up my cut. Fuck, I miss my cut. Thankfully, Phoenix said it should be done today. I’m itching to wear it again.
Taking a deep breath, I refocus and slip into my boots. I won’t always handle business with these boots, but today I wanted to. I have a couple of pairs of these boots. Black leather for whenever I want to wear them out and about, and these red leather ones for business. A dark smile pulls at my lips as I think of my other surprises Thor said he’d have secured down there for me for today.
Today is questioning day. Our guests have been here for a little over two weeks, and in that entire time, I was told no one from the club spoke to them while they were ‘entertaining’ them. Though I heard my men rained down holy hell on them the day after I was released from the hospital. Nothing was broken but they were definitely bloody and bruised. At least their beasts have been sated a bit. Mine hasn’t.
The purpose of these last two weeks was to wear them down just enough where Andre wouldn’t be in too much pain before they cracked.
Hopefully anyway.
As the one that was hurt the most, he’ll mostly be in charge today. I’m next in line, but I know Thor, Dragon, Jax, and Uncle Bear want in on the action. Alexei and Dad wanted to get in some punches, but I don’t know if they’ll let them since Alexei’s a prospect and Dad’s not in the club. Though Dad has said that he’s been thinking about it. Sasha’s only allowed to come down because we have two female guests, and our torturing methods are slightly different from the guys’ in some aspects. Not to mention, sometimes you just need two sets of hands and I’m not about to make one of the guys be the second set of hands so that they don’t have any conflicting emotions regarding hurting women.
Once I’m dressed, I open the cabinet I keep spare clothes in, as well as a few other personal things in case of emergencies. There’s been more than once that my men have torn my panties off me in this office that I insisted on keeping a stash in here because I am not a woman who likes to go commando in my pants. No, thank you.
I also installed a long mirror on the back of the door so I can make sure I’m not walking out too rumpled or with sex hair. Satisfied with my appearance and that my wounds are all covered, I shut the cabinet and head out into the common room.
My men spot me instantly and, based on both of their heated looks, I know they’re remembering our sexy times. I am too, for that matter. The guys don’t know it, but my doctor cleared me for sex finally, which I’m planning to have happen later today.
The click of my metal heels draws lustful glances from the guys when they take in my appearance, which has my men growling, even though they know none of their brothers would dare try anything with me.
“When did you get those? Those are practically fuck-me boots!” Sasha screams as scrambles off Colt’s lap where she was waiting and rushes over and damn near drools over my boots as laughter rings out when she stumbles in her haste.
“Fuck, baby, please say you’ll get a pair of those,” Colt whispers into her ear, but he isn’t as quiet as he thinks.
