Page 18 of Serendipity

Cain grunted. “Fine, but she rides with me back to the Clubhouse.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was pouting. If Solomon’s shit eating grin was anything to go by, he was definitely pouting.

I slid onto the bike behind Solomon, placing my feet where he pointed and wrapping my arms around his waist. His trim, muscled waist. Gah. Drool.

7

CAIN

W e pulled up outside a store aptly namedBaby, Baby, a baby boutique in one of the swanky areas of town, out of Damnation territory but not in anyone else's either. The main business district was neutral territory. Too hard to patrol, too hard to control.

Better to let it be.

Solomon had his hand on the hollow at the base of Serendipity’s spine, and I wanted to rip it off and throw it in the dumpster near where we parked our bikes. I loved Sol, he was my Brother, but he had this disarming thing that allowed him to touch Serendipity where she froze like a deer any time anyone else got within three feet of her. I’d noticed she even avoided people on the street, and looked uncomfortable in crowds.

But not with Solomon, that smooth fucker.

I consoled myself that she allowed me to dance with her last night, and she came to find me for a shirt this morning. Then I mentally punched myself in the vagina. I didn’t care who she let touch her. I didn’t want to get involved with her. After Solomon’s talk last night, the hypocritical fucker, I decided that I would ignore the pull between us. Because she was nothing but heartache wrapped in a pretty package. End of story.

I held open the door, giving Sol a squinty-eyed glare that didn’t scare him in the least. But he did remove his hand, which was damn lucky.

The shop assistant looked up, and I watched the fake, happy expression melt from her face when she took in my tattoos and our cuts. In the 2.4 seconds it took her to look us over, she had us judged and found wanting.

I didn’t mind it. I’d lived with it my entire life. But sometimes in the bubble of Damnation Territory, where we were just part of the scenery, granted like a fucking barb wire fence in that scenic picture, I forget that the rest of the world reacted like this.

She looked at Serendipity, who’s waif-like frame made her belly seem huge and drew even more attention to Goliath’s Damnation shirt, and her nose screwed up. Ah, she’d judged Sera too, but where she feared us, she was disgusted by Sera. Double standards at its finest.

I decided to ignore the shop assistant, who was yet to do any assisting.

I pulled the list from my pocket, and rattled off the first few things. I watched Solomon reach down and pluck a onesie off a display, watched the light dim in his eyes. I knew what, or should I say who, he was thinking about. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I struggled to keep the memories in their box. I knew this was going to happen. It was time.

I chanted that over and over to myself. I could save them this time.

Sera looked between us, her brow creasing adorably. Then she reached out, ran her hand over the onesie that Solomon wasn’t really seeing, before twining her fingers in his. I swallowed hard. Fuck.

She looked over at me, her eyes appraising me with gentle empathy. “Let’s look at baby holsters first?” Her voice was soft, and I knew that wasn’t really the question she was asking.

I wanted to kiss her. Just wrap her in my arms and kiss her until her cheeks were flushed and she was gasping for air. The urge hit me like a freight train, but it wasn’t like it had come from nowhere.

I’d been staring at that freight train for a long while now, as the light got closer and closer, and the danger became so intense I wanted to run the fuck away. But I was also drawn like a moth.

I was so screwed.

We found the right section, staring at the insane amount of babycarriers,not holsters, they weren’t fucking weapons. I slapped Solomon up the back of the head for making us look like idiots.

I didn’t miss Sera looking at the price tags of everything and wincing. I noted the ones she stared the most longingly at, and made a note of the brands and colors.

We made it to the portable cribs when Solomon swore softly under his breath. I glanced over his shoulder and swore a little louder.

The fucking attendant had called the fucking cops. I curled my lip at the woman behind the counter, and felt some satisfaction that her prejudicial ass cowered. Probably didn’t help my standing with the cops though.

There were two of them, one who looked pissed to be here doing a nuisance call. And the other guy. The other guy set my teeth on edge. He was a cowboy, I could tell that in an instant. It was in the way his hand was already resting on his gun despite the fact he hadn’t even spoken to us yet or the fact that we hadn’t done anything more threatening than look their way. He puffed out his chest and swaggered over to us, and I just knew he was going to be trouble.

“Easy,” Solomon said softly as the power flooded my veins. I tried hard to reel it in. We didn’t need this to go further south than it was already threatening to go.

Solomon gave the cops an easy smile. “Can we help you, Officers?”

The Cowboy Cop smirked. I wanted to punch it off his face. “You all need to leave this establishment. The shop assistant is evoking her right to eject you from the premises.”

Solomon raised his hand, and the Cowboy Cop pulled his gun and trained it on my Brother. Rage was now flooding my veins. There was no stopping it. Solomon showed the cops his palms. “Woah, let’s calm down. We are happy to leave. We were just looking for some baby shit for our girl.”

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