Page 83 of Blood Revealed

Raif

The rest of my Lords brothers are waiting for Hannah and me when we arrive at the small airport outside Corpus Christi.

Together, when we get the signal, we board the small ten-seater plane and wait for takeoff.

Hannah watches out the window the entire time, holding my hand tightly as she does, and it’s a miracle being here to experience this with her for the first time.

When we land a couple of hours later, the women are there with their trucks to get us back to Thornbriar. Boss offers to take me and Han back, but then he also attacks his wife’s lips, shoving his tongue down her throat, and they start going at it in the front cab. We decide to find somebody else.

Chaos calls over to me. “Hey, brother, why don’t you and Han ride back with us?”

Leading Hannah by the hand, we walk over to Chaos and Liv’s truck, where I hold the back door open for my wife and help her up inside. She slides over and I slide in next to her, knowing that A., being away from his wife, Chaos is going to want to have Liv next to him, and B., it’s going to be a long fucking time before I let Hannah be away from me again.

They’ve all given her a look, but none of my brothers are rude enough to ask what happened. They know I’ll tell them when the time is right to tell them. That’s another part of the brotherhood.

It’s a little over a half hour later when we pull back onto the compound. I’ve never been so glad to see home. Unlike Texas, where it’s hot as fucking Hades already, springtime in Kentucky is warm, but it’s beautiful. All the little buds—greens and white growing on the trees. There’s still some wind, some chill at nighttime. For the most part, it’s a good deal.

The rest of the brothers started back home once we safely crossed back over the border into the United States after visiting with Anguino, which means they beat us back home. You’d think the Queen of fucking England was coming to visit the way we’re greeted when our procession stops, pulling in the parking spaces in front of homes or in front of the clubhouse. Every brother, old lady, and even the kids of the club file out from the clubhouse to greet us.

Even though she knows all of these people, it’s a lot for Hannah to deal with and she sort of shrinks behind me, pressing her front tight against my back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Raif,” she says.

She’s been through an ordeal. “Fuck, baby, you gotta ease up a little on yourself. They all love you and want to know that you’re okay, but you know as well as I do, they’ll all understand if you can’t people right now.”

“I don’t want to be rude,” she argues.

“Fuck that, be fucking rude. You do what you need to do in order to heal, baby.”

While the other brothers and their old ladies who drove back from the airfield with us walk over to give their hugs and back pats, Hannah and I keep to where we’re standing. “We appreciate you all showing up today,” I say, speaking for the both of us. “But Hannah needs to rest for a while, so we’re just gonna go to our room and let her catch her bearings, okay?”

“Definitely take your woman home,” Duke says. “But it ain’t gonna be the room.” He points over to a brand-new trailer on the property that I would’ve had no reason to notice until it was pointed out to me. Tan, not beige, siding. White trim. A rudimentary porch painted white with a thick bannister and latticework beneath.

He walks a set of keys over to us, dropping them in my upturned hand. “I’m stunned,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothin’ to say,” he replies, then he turns to Hannah. “Glad to have you back safe, sweetheart.” He raises his hand as if to pat her cheek but stops himself, dropping his hand back to his side. “Come on, Doc,” he says, holding his hand out to her. As she reaches his side holding little Diesel, he takes Jade’s hand with his other and I hear him say, “Let’s get the kids some dinner, then we’re gonna practice makin’ Diesel a big brother.”

She throws her head back and laughs the way only Caity laughs, that’s to say, the laugh of a woman exceedingly happy as the wife of a biker president.

We walk up onto our porch and Hannah waits for me to unlock the door. I push it open and scoop her up into my arms to carry her across the threshold. And then I stop dead. They didn’t just set up a house for us—they set up a whole fucking home.

Sofa, tables, lamps, TV, recliner, shit like a coffee maker in the kitchen and I know if I check, there’ll be flatware and dishes, probably even pots and pans. I set Han down on the cool-as-shit brown leather sofa, which is definitely brand new but is purposely worn in spots to make it look comfortably lived in, and bend down to kiss her cheek. “Welcome home, baby.”

It had to have been the women because I don’t see any of these men doing such a thorough job of grocery shopping. If I had to guess, Brinley led that charge. As I’m moving around the kitchen, getting familiar with where everything got put away and whipping us up some dinner, my phone vibrates with a text.

Caity:I’m coming to check Hannah out.

Me:Practice making Diesel a big brother. Give us till tomorrow.

Caity:Bright and early. Before work.

Me:Deal.

The rest of the evening, Hannah and I chill on the sofa under a blanket that I found in one of the closets, eating our grilled cheeses and tomato soup—I kept the food smooth for her throat—and watching TV.

Two weeks later…

After dropping Hannah off at the house after work, I went to grab a few more things from my room inside that I’ll probably be giving up here soon because we live on the damn property, which means there’s no reason to keep it. And now I’m back home. When I open the front door, Han’s sitting on the sofa, no TV on or music. She’s been healing nicely. The bruising has gone down considerably and Caity put us in contact with an OT who specializes in throat issues. Now she’s actually getting her voice back. The drawback is now she sounds breathy when she speaks, which leaves me in a constant state of needing to fuck my wife, which I haven’t done in weeks.

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