Obliterate, p.2
Obliterate, page 2
“Jesus…” I let out a laugh, grabbing hold of the car door handle to open it. “C’mon, let’s go.”
We head for the double front door of the two-story mansion. As we walk up the stairs, I feel completely out of place. Whoever this Angus guy is, he’s stinking rich, but before we even make it to the fancy double doors, they spring back with gusto to a tiny little woman with a bright smile.
“You’re here! They’re here!” she yells the second part like she’s trying to gain someone’s attention as she rushes out the doors straight for me. Her small arms are wide as she wraps them around me in the tightest of hugs, contrary to her tiny frame.
My eyes bug out of my face as I gasp. “Oh… hi there,” I reply to the excitable woman.
All the while, Reaper is chuckling.
“Fuck, Lucia! Calm your tits,” he states, pulling her off me.
“But she’s real!” She giggles and moves in, giving Reaper a friendly cuddle.
“Of course, she’s real. I sent y’all photos.”
Lucia shoves him playfully. “They could have been fake. I mean, she’s pretty as all get out. How did you pull such a thing of beauty, huh? Angus! I said they’re here!” she yells again so quickly I hardly have time to process.
Nash lets out a small snort.
Lucia glances at him. “And you… you’re not Defiance material, are you, son?” she states, and Nash glances up with a scowl.
“The club’s not for me… no offense.” He quickly snaps his head back to Reaper, who grips his shoulder and gives it a squeeze.
“None taken. C’mon, let’s head inside. Try to find this husband of yours, hey, Lucia?” Reaper suggests, and she grins, spins, then moves inside, and we follow.
The luxury and opulence of the place hits me in the face like a damn sledgehammer.
White walls. Marble floors. Chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. The grand staircase is front and center as we walk through the foyer. Not to mention an expensive-looking piano sitting in the main entrance.
Like, who the fuck has a piano in their foyer with a chandelier above it? Pretentious people with too much money, that’s who!
Nash and Novah glance around the space, casually looking back at me in awe, and I narrow my eyes on them. They’ve never seen anything like this before. Sure, their world opened up to new things since Defiance has come along, and their father Harry is wealthy in his own right, but this is something else.
We walk into a sitting room, and Lucia gestures for us all to sit on the long sofa. “Angus!” she screams again as a tall man strides in, wearing a bowler hat. The man towers over the tiny Lucia.
“Damn, woman, lower your cow horn. You’ll wake the neighbors,” Angus states with a smirk.
Reaper stands and walks over. They pull each other in, slapping their backs in some sort of manly thing men seem to do.
Lucia shakes her head. “It’s four in the afternoon. If the neighbors are sleeping, it’s because they overdosed again. And honestly, someone needs to get Rohan into rehab anyway because he is out of contro—”
“Lucia, get our guests some drinks, will you?” Angus interrupts, his eyes drifting toward me.
Lucia’s smile falls, and she nods. “Yes, dear.” She walks over to the wet bar to make the drinks.
Reaper wraps his arm around Angus. “Well, old pal, I’d like you to meet my new family. My Old Lady, Ingrid, and her children… my stepkids, Novah and Nash.”
Angus glances at my children. “Nice to meet you all, finally. I’ve heard so much. Honestly, this idiot doesn’t shut up about you.”
I raise my brow. “Really? Because I haven’t heard much about you,” I reply.
“I’m not surprised…” Reaper rolls his shoulders as Angus smiles like he isn’t bothered by my honesty. “We sometimes don’t see each other for long periods of time. Depends on my schedule. But the tour just finished, and I’m home for a couple of months. So when Reaper told me he was in LA, and I am finally here at the same time, I knew we had to catch up. It’s been what? Six years, old friend?”
Reaper nods, gripping Angus’ shoulder. “Easily… where’s the kids? They’ve got to be really shootin’ up by now?”
“They’re with the nanny. We have to homeschool them. They were getting too much attention with kids knowing who I am and shit. They need to be protected… but Lucia can go get them for you.”
She nods, walking out of the room.
I furrow my brows, feeling like I’m missing something, and glance around the room, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.
Why are his kids being homeschooled?
Why is he away so much?
Then I see it.
The framed picture on the wall of one of the world’s most famous rock bands.
Uncensored.
It hits me—Angus is the lead singer.
Sure, they’re not as popular as they were fifteen years ago, but they’re classic rock. They have some of the biggest hits the world has known. I’ve sung them in the car with Novah and Nash more times than I can count.
“Holy shit,” I mumble under my breath.
Reaper glances at me, letting out a small laugh. “There it is.”
Angus shrugs. “What?”
“The moment of realization, hey baby?” Reaper asks.
I nod my head. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea who you were until I saw the pictures just now.”
Angus waves it off. “Oh, stop! I’m a washed-up has-been. Treat me as if I’m your old man’s best friend and nothing more.”
Releasing my shoulders, I exhale, trying to relax. “Okay,” I reply.
Lucia enters with a girl who looks about the same age as Nash, around eighteen, and then a younger boy, maybe fifteen or so. They walk in, the girl with a little more poise than the boy who seems like he’s itching to move, like he’s restless, his foot tapping on the spot.
“Oh good, you’re here, Arabella, my daughter. She’s naturally gifted. So intelligent. She’s learning the ins and outs of the music industry. I’m trying to get Romeo, my youngest, to learn the guitar, but sometimes I wonder if he’s putting in any effort,” Angus states matter-of-factly.
Arabella smiles wide, like she is super proud of her father’s evaluation.
Romeo, however, sinks into himself and huffs. “We can’t all be the golden child,” Romeo mumbles under his breath.
Angus exhales, folding his arms over his chest. “No, that’s more than obvious. But maybe if we put some actual effort in, instead of being so fucking stub—”
“I’m not being stubborn, Dad. Just because I’m not into music, it automatically means I’m not good enough for you.”
I go to say something, but Angus interrupts me. “Romeo, we have guests, and any normal kid wouldn’t act the way you are right now.”
My eyes widen as Romeo’s nostrils flare.
I stand, shaking my head. “Okay, let’s all take a breath. In the heat of the moment, we say things we don’t me—”
“No. He meant it. I know Dad thinks I’m not… normal. I don’t live up to his expectations. Or should I say to what he expects a son of his should—”
“Romeo, that’s enough!” Lucia snaps.
Arabella begins to chuckle, not giving any support, and it seems to be the straw that breaks him. He picks up the nearest thing, which happens to be some kind of music trophy and throws it toward Arabella. She ducks out of the way before it smashes on the floor.
“Daddy, Romeo tried to kill me!” she snarks.
He goes to grab something else, his rage seeping off him in waves. It’s like a switch has been triggered as he flies off the handle at his sister.
So I jump up and race over to him, seeing as no one else is doing anything to help the situation. I reach out just as he’s about to destroy another trophy and grab his hand. “Romeo, stop!” I demand.
He pants through his mouth, hurt clear in his eyes, but I can tell the anger hasn’t subsided. His focus is still on his sister, so I place my hand on his face and force him to look at me. “Rome, look at me,” I urge calmly. I don’t know if it’s my directness, or if it’s me calling him Rome for short is what stops him. Either way, I breathe a sigh of relief when he exhales, placing the trophy down. Our eyes lock, and I nod at him with a small smile. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay… I promise.”
He stares at me like I’m the only person who has ever cared about him in the world, breaking my damn heart.
I wish we could take him with us.
But I know we can’t.
All I can do is make the most impact with him right now.
“It’s okay to be different, Romeo. And if you want to, you can be anything you want to be. Don’t let anyone push you in a direction you don’t want. You’re old enough… take charge of your life, okay?”
“Thank you. I don’t know who you are, but… you are kind of amazing.” He smiles.
I let out a small laugh as Reaper steps in beside me. “We should go.”
I drop my hand and nod, turning to glare at Angus and Lucia, scowling in clear disgust. “Do better.”
I snarl.
“Keep your woman in check next time, Reaper.” Angus huffs.
Fuck that! I turn, starting to storm toward him, my finger pointed out in rage. “You fucking ass—”
Reaper grabs me around the waist and starts dragging me out of the house.
“C’mon, kids, let’s go,” Reaper calls out.
Novah and Nash race out after us while Reaper manhandles me out of the house, my fist raised at Angus as I go.
I go to yell again, but Reaper pushes me up against the side of our car hard, his eyes on me, making me stop instantly. “Ingrid, I love you… but shut the fuck up. You’re the best mother I have ever known. Your heart and devotion to our four kids knows no bounds, but don’t tell another man how to raise his kids.”
My heart beats so fast in my chest, tears welling as I glance back at the opulent house. The thought of leaving Romeo there kills me, but I don’t have any other choice. He has so much character and potential, and they’re stifling him.
It’s not fair.
Pulling myself free from Reaper, I spin and jump in the car, slamming the door shut for added emphasis and folding my arms over my chest.
Reaper slowly gets in, the four of us dead quiet while he pulls the car out of the parking spot and starts driving, skidding the tires as he goes.
My eyes flick to the rearview mirror where Romeo is standing by the giant window, watching us pull away, and somehow, for some reason, I get the feeling it won’t be the last time I see that young man.
I have high hopes he will turn into someone amazing, and I hope I am able to witness that happen.
One day.
CHAPTER TWO
South
Twelve Years Later
Defiance MC has been a part of me for so long that it flows through my veins. The club means more to me than my brothers realize.
When I finally joined LA Defiance, I knew deep in my bones and the fabric of my soul that this is where I belonged.
While LA is where I grew up and where I call home, I’ve always felt the need to see the rest of our beautiful country. Hell, even the rest of the world, if I can. So when the opportunity came for me to transfer from the club I love in LA to my brother chapter in New Orleans, another club I have grown very fond of, I knew I needed to take that leap.
Itchy feet were pulling me in another direction. The need to stretch my limbs and breathe different air was calling me. My brothers in LA mean so much, don’t get me wrong, and I know I’m going to come back, but as they say, ‘a change is as good as a holiday,’ and maybe this temporary change will be my holiday.
I have no idea how long I’ll be spending in New Orleans, but I will make the most of my time here. Transfers from one club to another don’t come up often, so when a position is available, you grab it with both hands and make as much out of it as possible.
And that is exactly what I plan to do.
Riding into the NOLA Defiance clubhouse for the first time as a patched brother for their chapter, I don’t know what to expect. Once they find a brother to fill their prospect, Jesse’s spot, and he patches up to a ranking brother, my time will be done. I’ll be back in LA quicker than I can say “beignet.” So, I need to ensure I make an impression—leave a legacy—and do my part.
Pulling my bike into the parking space allotted, excitement washes over me.
Will they be waiting for me inside?
Will they have a celebration prepared for my arrival?
I sure hope so.
Kicking out the stand, I lean my bike to the side and throw my leg over, sliding off my ride and stretching my muscles. The ride from LA was fucking lengthy and took a lot longer than I wanted, but I needed my bike with me. If I wanted her here, the only way to do that was to do the nearly two-thousand-mile ride. But it’s worth every bump in the road, even if I do have a sore-as-fuck ass and tense-as-hell neck muscles.
Luckily, my bags and some belongings were shipped ahead of time, so if everything’s gone according to plan, my shit should already be here. Craning my neck to the side, my bones crack slightly with the pressure, and I let out a throaty groan. “Here we go,” I mumble to myself, then stride toward the clubhouse with purposeful steps.
Walking into the clubhouse, I expect a brother to grab me when I walk through and for all the back-slapping congratulatory “Welcome, brother” comments to be flung my way.
Instead… nothing!
Everyone is going about their usual shit.
My brows tighten at the reality check.
Not one person turns their head. They continue like my life isn’t completely being altered by this moment.
Right! So this moment is only big for me.
NOLA Defiance is their home. They’re used to being here, so new arrivals obviously aren’t a big deal. But for me, I can assure you, it feels like a big. Fucking. Deal.
No special treatment. Got it.
Glancing down, I spot my bags on the floor by the front door, so I reach down and take a deep breath. “Get your shit together, South,” I mumble under my breath.
I make my way to the bar, where Jaz casually wipes the countertop down. She spots me and smiles brightly in her usual way. “Hey. You’re here!”
Weakly smiling, I shrug. “Looks like it. So, ahh… where do I go from here?”
She ducks out from behind the bar and starts walking for the hall. “Follow me. I’ll take you to your room.”
“Thanks. Where is everyone today?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“The guys are around doing their own thing. Some of the old ladies are at their day jobs. Just general day-to-day life… you’ll get used to it. You’ll find your place here. I know you will.” We reach a bedroom at the end of the hall, and she pushes the door open, gesturing for me to enter.
With a nod, I walk into my room. “Thanks, Jaz, appreciate it.”
The layout is smaller than my room in LA, but it will do just fine. I don’t need material shit. I never have. I prefer the company of good people because good people are hard to find.
“If you need anything, Storm is the head club girl. So, she’s your go-to for any club-related questions. But I’m here if you need any other club girl services or anything at all… I’m your girl.” She winks suggestively, making me chuckle at her obvious innuendo as she turns and walks out the door.
I drop my bags on my bed with a giant smirk. “Club girls,” I murmur to myself, knowing precisely what Jaz was offering.
You never know—a guy has needs.
Just not right now.
Now, I need to find my new club president. Let him know I’m here and ready for him to integrate me into the club as he needs.
After I sort my bags into a state that will get me by, I head out into the clubroom to find Hurricane. I wander through the expanse, checking around for him, when my eyes widen, taking in the strawberry-blonde locks of the woman who took my breath away the last time I was here.
Ingrid Ladet.
Sure, she’s Hurricane and Bayou’s stepmother.
Yeah, she’s Novah and Nash’s mother too.
Absolutely, she is old enough to be my mother, but something about this woman ignites a fire inside me.
The second I saw her at Hurricane’s wedding, I knew. I just knew we shared a connection. She may not know it yet, and it might come off a little creepy, but I have to get to know her better.
She’s the kind of woman who requires your full attention.
To be shown that she’s worth so much more than what the world has dealt her.
I’ve seen her the last couple of times I’ve been to the clubhouse. The woman is damn fine! And a bit of an age difference will not stop me from showing her what she’s worth.
With a grin on my goofy face, I make my way over, ensuring I add a little pep to my strut.
Ingrid spots me, and a sly smirk appears on her lips as I approach.
“South, I see you’ve transitioned here okay.”
That voice is like a fucking angel.
“Better now I know you’re here to greet me,” I reply cockily.
She lets out a stifled laugh while rolling her eyes. “Flattering as that is, I’m not here to greet you. I’m here to see my daughter. You know, the woman who’s a year older than you are, and she is the youngest of my children.”
I only see that as a challenge, not a deterrent.
“Age is only a number.”
She bites her bottom lip—goddamn, that little gesture sends all sorts of signals to my dick.
My words obviously affect her.
“Not when you’re the mother of so many people who belong to this club, South. Back off.”
Smirking, I lean in closer. Ingrid’s fruity perfume fills my senses as I press my lips to her ear and whisper a breath over her skin. “If you wanted me to back off, you wouldn’t still be here.”
She jerks her head back, her eyes wide, as she straightens out her already straight shirt. “Jesus Christ,” she murmurs, turns, and walks briskly toward Novah, where she’s standing, watching us, her eyes narrowed in question.
