The Way Home (Lights of Peril Book 2) (20 page)

With my skirt around my waist
, he gives me a toss and I find myself flat on the bed. He’s lifting my shirt and then taking off my bra, dismissing them to the ground. He goes for my breast and sucks it roughly, forcing the gasp; an admission not of pain, but of pleasure. He feels familiar and I feel protected ... safe.

“Pierce this again for me?
”

I nod in response to his question.
I miss my piercings for so many reasons.

“
Soon, Sadey.” He flicks my nipple with his tongue, then pulls it slightly in his teeth.

“It’s not your decision
, Hem. Now can you please shut up and fuck me? Or do I need to do it myself?” I cannot stop expelling word-vomit. Shit.

“You want me or you just want fucked?
Anyone could do that. I don’t need to be here to watch. That’s your second warning, if you’re pushing for an ass-beat, baby, you’re close.”

“I want you
. I want
you
to fuck me. There’s a difference. Just cut the chit-chat and fuck me. Seven months, Hem. One doesn’t just stop wanting sex. Give a woman a drop of water after seven months and then watch her want to drink the entire fountain.”

“My girl.
God, I want to see you make bad decisions only with me when you’re drunk. Do you understand that?”

“Fuck you, Hem.”

“That’s the third and last time, baby. Hold on.”

With that he enters me and doesn’t stop until he takes
me to a climax of oblivion, then becomes rigid in me, reaching his own. When I told myself I wanted him to take his time with me right now, I meant that. I’m mentally cursing all this makeup, perfume, short skirt, low shirt, and high heels, which I’m still wearing.

“I love you, baby.
Tell me you love me.” Because he says this so quietly, I nearly miss it. He’s afraid of rejection. This means a lot to him and he’s putting himself out there.

“It’s no secret I love you, dumbass.
You don’t have to say it to me as if you’re nothing more than a tiny church mouse.”

“Fuckin’ women.
You ain’t happy if we show our feelings. You ain’t happy if we don’t… a church mouse, Christ.” I’m smiling into his chest as he’s on top of me, kissing my temple through my hair. “You mine, babe? I prefer you would just agree so I can breathe easy. Right now, I’m not breathin’. Just waiting for you to decide if we live happily-ever-after or you send this mouse packin’ to find a hole to die in, alone.”

This has the potential to become a sharp buzzkill, quickly.
I need to lighten the mood, but I’m not funny like Mace, or vulgar like Shame. I already know I’m definitely not the poet at heart like Hem. All I have to offer is my childhood experiences, which are all things a childhood should have been.

“
We can talk about later, ‘Timmy Q’.”

He stops kissing at my neck and chest
and looks down at me, waiting for an explanation. I forgot that maybe Hem isn’t exactly informed on the history of Dumbo and the little mouse that befriended him during a hard time in his little elephant life, so I laugh to myself because I have the upper hand in this minute and I
never
have the upper hand when our clothes are off. I’m usually too transfixed by him.

“Oh God, this
is going to take a few minutes to explain, I see. ‘Timothy Q.’ is a fictional mouse from a book and movie, ‘Dumbo.’ You’ve never heard of that, have you?”

He is serious in thought
as he searches for the answers he thinks I can send him with my Jedi mind, then, from out of nowhere, he surprises the hell out of me and it is
hilarious
.

“Sadey, everyone who ever went to school
until the third grade had to read the damn book and watch that sappy-ass movie. I know who
‘Timothy Q’”
is, but when you’re referring to me you gotta give me a shot to be important. If you have to refer to me as a fuckin’ mouse, gimme Mighty Mouse, ‘cause any other mouse is a fuckin’ pussy and everyone knows it.”

I’m trying too hard to be serious
, but I can’t. He got me, I really didn’t think he would have any idea. His childhood wasn’t filled with cartoon movies and bowls of popcorn for the family to share. Hem is not a funny man, either, but that was an impressive delivery.

“I don’t know what to do with that, honey.”

“You ain’t gotta
do nothing with it, woman. Get up and get dressed and dance with your man. This time keep yourself in my arms. Don’t walk away like that again… tired of chasing you, woman. I’m always chasing you.”

With that, I get up and get dressed and we head back to the party.

After coming back downstairs to a party that is
still in full swing, Hem has asked me to stay near him. He’s nervous about the reactions of the guests and Shame has warned him he’s going to be making a toast to him regarding his return. When Hem asked me to stay near him, I should have known that he meant that not just emotionally, but physically. No sooner did my feet hit the common area floor was I off of them and in his arms, cradled like a child.

I’
m sitting in Hem’s lap at a table in the middle of the room. Gunner, Honor, and even Ace, are standing around as if nothing has changed and Hem never left. Shame releases Mace out of his hold around her waist and sits her down by Hem and I. Then we watch him head towards the bar. Here comes to the toast.

He rings that obnoxious bar bell, gathering everyone’s attention, requesting their
silence. “Need your focus for a few minutes, boys.”

Shame holds
in pause, waiting for everyone to finish their conversations and quiet down.

“The last time I addressed you it was because an angel that walked among us had found her way back home
, to heaven. It feels so long ago that we stood here and celebrated that great lady. Ironically tonight, we are here to celebrate a brother coming home.”

Everyone holds up their glasses and drinks to Hem.
Hem is sitting under me. He’s not moving at all because he’s absorbed in the club, and he truly missed being here.

“When I saw Hem standing in
Ace’s kitchen, miles from here, I thought I’d died and he was greeting me at the pearly gate… fucker didn’t even offer me a beer. Hem explained to me, as well to many of you, what had happened that night when he surrendered himself to Warren. He left to save us, the club, our women, and our families. Warren Cash was a sick man and his fury knew no bounds, including death. The fight isn’t over fellas, but there is no other person I would trust to take care of what needs to be taken care of.”

Hem jerks under me and I feel the chair move.
I turn around, putting my hands to his face to calm him. “Let him finish. Don’t take this from him, honey. He needs to talk this out.”

Mace is at us
as well. “Brother, I agree. Give him his time on the floor, then you can say something if you want. Either way, you’re not leaving, so sit down.”

Shame is still quiet as he looks to the three of us sitting around the table.
He’s looking at Hem and waiting for a response, but after our tag-team effort, Hem doesn’t have one. He’s confused and wondering what angle Shame is working. Shame is the President of this Club and no one has voiced a question about what happens to the position now that Hem is back.

When Shame accepted the position, it was under
the pretense of sadness and duress. He doesn’t like the position, doesn’t want it, and if I know Shame, and I think I do, he’s greedy to get rid of it and go back to being Hem’s right hand.

Shame continues hesitantly since the room has gone quiet
and Hem hasn’t moved. This time, when he starts speaking, he’s looking and talking directly to Hem. He is talking loud enough for every person here to hear.

“I never set out to be President of this Club
, Hem. I knew there was never anyone more loyal and dedicated to making this run as it should… how Doc wanted it… then you… Hem, brother, I’m fuckin’ overpowered by your sister and nephew already. I have put in an order for two additional sons and my focus in life has changed because of my family. You are able to run this unit in your sleep. It’s time you take it back. Please, brother. Take it back.”

In unison t
he crowd again raises their glasses and laughs. Hem moves me to stand and hugs me in a tight embrace before going up to relieve Shame. They give a good man hug and no one says anything in wait for Hem’s response to Shames changing of the guard… It doesn’t take long and Hem is addressing this room full of family. His voice is much more quiet and broken in comparison to Shame’s, so eager and enthusiastic.

“Thank you for the welcome back
. I wasn’t sure how it was going to play out. Shame is right. Not about me running Peril, but about the danger that it’s not over. Warren Cash fuckin’ hated me. I got his hatred only because of the blood that ran through my veins. I’m a second-generation clubber, and to me, there is no other life. Thank you for taking care of things while I was away. No spoken words could express to each of you how thankful I am to be with my family again.”

Hem is getting choked up
, so he hands the drink in his hand off to Gunner who stands proudly at his side, as always. Gunner puts the drink down, and without any forewarning to Hem, Gunner grabs him as he tries to walk away, and hands Hem a cut. It’s new. Everyone thought Hem had been buried in it. No one knows he burned it while in California. Ace told Gunner this, so Gunner took it upon himself to have another made and this one is kick-ass.

Hem
reluctantly slides it on. Everything is still barely sinking in for him… he still has a lot to process. The room is growing louder as the party starts again. I can hear Hem talking out loud to Gunner, Honor, and now, Shame. He’s thanking them from the bottom of his heart for doing everything they have done, thus far, for his girls.

After thinking more on the topic of the cut and how we had assumed it was buried, I pull Hem to me and ask a crazy question
. One that as a woman, we need an answer to.

“Honey, if you were
n’t in your grave, who the fuck was I talking to all that time?” I’m using words he doesn’t like for me to use, but I need him to get that I am in need of an answer. I deserve one, being that I was the saddened widow discussing my life with….

“Gerald
… grey haired fella at the post office… you remember?” He says this like he’s saying we’re expecting rain on Tuesday.

“Oh my God, Hem.
Are you kidding me right now?”

“Babe, I’m not.
He passed about the same time I supposedly did and his neighbors didn’t even notice he was gone ‘til they smelled him. So, Hood handled the arrangements. He wasn’t there long, honey…moved within a week… just had to give enough time for story to play out to the hire, that my funeral was over, so he believed I was gone. No big deal.”

“No big deal?
No, no big deal
to you
. You weren’t there listening to my bat-shit crazy thoughts. Hem, when I think of a good plot of revenge for this, you’re going to be first in line for payback.”

“Sadey, you have no evil
within your hold. I’m not worried.”

Right.
Asshole.

Hell hath no fury
…