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I raise my brows in surprise while Jayden just snaps, "I haven't fucked anyone but my girl in three fucking years," causing my eyes to widen in shock at his words.
Betty's eyes widen, and Jayden sighs and points at her and Tims, "This goes no further than the two of you. Do I make myself clear?"
They both nod, obviously forgetting I'm in the room until Jayden walks my way. I tilt my head at him, my eyes softening, knowing this cannot be easy for him. He's petrified the club will ruin us or he'll destroy us, which is why we've kept our relationship to ourselves.
I love him enough to do it. He's everything to me.
Betty and Tims watch him as he stops before me and holds his hand out. I smile at him, willingly taking it before he spins me around, placing my back to his front as he gently kisses the crook of my neck, then rests his chin on my head. Both Betty and Tims look at us in complete shock until Jayden lifts my left hand, showcasing the ring on my finger, my mother's ring, and rasps,"Grams, Tims, I believe you both know my fiancée, Violet."
Betty comes out of her shock first as she tries to stand, squealing, and Tims comes out of his shock to help her up before they both crowd around us, hugging us.
Betty cries openly. "I've always wanted you two together," which makes us chuckle.
Then Jayden whispers, "I love you," in my ear, which makes me melt.
17
Tats
I look at the cut hanging from the back of my bathroom door. I'm in my room at the club where I stayed last night, and today is my wedding day, which no one except a few know.
It's been a few days since we told Grams, who is still celebrating. Now, I need to decide whether I want to wear that piece of leather with my black button-down shirt, knowing what the statement would mean if I walked out without it.
Do I really want that in my wedding photos?
I asked my Shorty, and she stated I could wear whatever I wanted, and she'd back me. She's not willing to sway me either way. It comes down to whether I'll stay in the club and how I'll feel in years to come—cut or no cut, club or no club.
I sigh as my phone rings, knowing it's either Snake or Grams. Both have been blowing up my phone, and both for different reasons. Though Snake knows I'm in my room, the idiot tried to get me involved with the club party last night. Colleen made a beeline for me, which I ignored, locking my door.
I look and see it’s my Grams and chuckle.
"It's still a no, Grams," I answer it, and she groans, making me laugh.
"Why not? I'm your grandmother, and I'm her honorary grandmother. Granted, she has seen me in certain positions and has had drinks thrown at her, but I should be there," she replies with a sniffle, and I sigh. I hate upsetting her, but my lovely grandmother needs to see reason here.
Wait…what fucking drinks?
I shake my head, needing to stay on topic. "Grams…first of all, we'll get back to the whole drink thing later, while ignoring the thing about her seeing you in positions, and secondly, if I have you there, then I need to tell Momma, who will then tell my sister, who will then tell my father, who will then tell the whole fucking club."
She replies, "You're not going to lose her because of the brothers, because you won't let them push her away."
I squeeze my eyes shut and rasp, "That's easy for you to say, Grams, but in my head…I fuck…. I can't risk it. It took a fucking year to convince myself to even give our relationship a chance." I sigh, trying not to fucking run my fingers through my hair. "Grams, I approached her with a friends with benefits situation, and we both tried that for two years. It only took two years before I couldn't handle it anymore. Even though we tried fucking other people, we never did. When I tried, I felt sick. She's my fucking everything, and I can't lose her. I won't. The brothers, they haven't been there for me, I'm the mistake, I'm the unwanted?—"
She cuts me off, "You're not unwanted. I want you. Emily wants you. Violet wants you…."
I smile a little and reply, "I know, Grams, but today, I just want it to be me, Vi, and our three witnesses. Her parents are dead, and she's going to struggle as it is. None of her family is involved. This is the plan we've made for us, Grams, and this way, when Momma finds out, she won't be angry that she missed it because I didn't just exclude her and the brothers."
Grams grumbles, knowing I'm right, making me laugh a little before I sigh, looking at the cut again.
She states, "Talk to me, my boy."
I hum and say, "I'm debating not wearing my cut."
She sucks in a breath knowing what the statement would mean for my place within the club. I'm their enforcer. I've kept them safe for a few years now, put myself in the firing line for them, all while putting the club first despite my childhood. And my patience is running thin.
The brothers are quick to call and get me more involved with the club to show they trust me, yet they haven't fucking apologized for their treatment of me.
"Darling, it's not my place to tell you what to do just like I imagine Violet has also kept quiet, but I think you should wear the cut. I think you're going to regret it if you don't."
