Page 19 of More than Enough
“Vote.” Without another word, Gibby stood and lifted a hand, fist in the air. “All who want to brand these motherfuckers with a BFMC fuck no, so indicate.”
Blade turned and looked around the group of men, inner circle and longtime members all. Along with his, every fist was raised.
“Mister Secretary, do you note the vote?” That was Neptune calling out as his role demanded.
Wolf answered quickly. “So noted, all ayes. Motion passes, and these motherfuckers are about to enter the entirety of the world of hurt.”
Things happened quickly after that—the tiny charcoal stove brought out along with the long-handled brand. Blade watched as Monk and another member improvised a circle with a line across it, the internationally recognized symbol for no.
The men—Blade realized he’d stopped referring to them by name, even in his head—pleaded and screamed, and Wolf’s man passed out when the red-hot iron touched the inside of his bicep, but in the end, it was done in two passes. First for the indelible mark of the club, and secondly the overlay of what they’d all started calling the Fuck No.
Blade watched as Gibby got in the men’s faces, and whatever his whispered threats were, they were dire enough to make both men pale even further. Gibby then assigned two members to take the men back to their homes. They stood as a group, as a club, and watched the van drive away, carrying a cargo of rejects. Only when it was gone from sight did Gibby turn to Blade with his hand out. Blade offered his hand and quickly found himself pulled into a tight clinch, Gibby’s mouth near his ear as he gave Blade the best advice he’d ever received.
“Just like with any tough mission, you had an objective. You reached that objective tonight, brother. Find and neutralize the threat to your woman’s happiness. Mission fuckin’ accomplished, man. Now, you’re gonna think about those two asswipes, and you’re gonna see them because it’s not a large town, and when that happens, all you’re gonna remember is two things. You ready? Wanna know what they are?” Gibby pulled back, studying him until Blade nodded and Gibby made a pleased sound. “First is you protected the club. With fire in your eyes, you fuckin’ protected the goddamned club and I’m proud to call you mine. Fuckin’ proud, brother. Second is you protected your woman. Not from the asswipes, but from you. You went to battle with yourself tonight, and you fuckin’ won. Others will see her as your weakness, but you and I know different, don’t we? She’s not a weakness at all, not your soft belly spot, oh no. She’s your strength, because you’ll twist yourself into a fuckin’ knot to be what she needs you to be. Well done, my brother.Never forget what you did tonight. Mission accomplished.”
Blade held on for a moment more, eyes clenched tight against the flood of hot tears that threatened. When he had himself under lock and key, had his shit right and tight, he cleared his throat and gave Gibby the one word that meant the world. “Brother.”
Fifteen
Jenn
The warm, familiar body slipping into bed woke Jenn. She rolled towards Blade and snuggled into his side as he wrapped an arm around her. Nose pressed to his ribs, she drew in a lungful of her flowery shower gel. Laughing softly, she touched his skin with her lips.
“What’s so funny?” He didn’t sound tired. There was a hard tone in his voice, an edge she hadn’t heard before.
She blinked, the dim light in the room putting the time at long before her alarm would sound. “You showered.” Nose brushing along his ribs, she smiled. “And now you smell like lilies.” Another soft kiss to his skin. “Like me.”
“Didn’t take the time to unpack. My shit for the bathroom yet.”
A shiver traveled through her at the brittle-sounding words. She lifted her head to look at him. Eyes open, he was staring at the ceiling, not even glancing at her as she moved. The expression he wore was fierce, and it looked as if he were raging internally.
“Blade?” She crowded closer and rested her palm on his chest. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Nate.” At her question, he dipped his chin to his neck, staring at her. “Call me Nate when we’re here, please.”
“Okay.” The idea he needed to create a separation between his club persona and the man she slept with actually sounded like a good idea, and she’d already started that with her insistence on using his name when they made love. “I can do that.”
“Thanks, honey.” His chin lifted, and he stared at the ceiling again.
“Nate.” She smiled when he angled his head to look at her and repeated her question. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Jesus.” He didn’t sound aggrieved, just amused, and she let her grin grow broader. “Persistent little thing, aren’t you?” He shifted around and up onto a hip, curving himself around her as he pulled her down against his chest. “There are going to be times when all I can tell you is that whatever’s bothering me is club business. When that happens, you gotta let it lay. Club business is the equivalent of a nondisclosure. Confidential information I’m not at liberty to share. I’m bothered tonight and you caught wind of that, but that’s all I can give you.”
“You bothered is me bothered.” Brows drawn together, she stared up at him. “I don’t care about the club. I care about you.”
“Honey, I am the club.” She shook her head involuntarily at his words, not understanding. “It took me nearly two years total to earn my patch, because I took my time. I was unwilling to jump into something without a complete understanding. Two years where nearly everything I did was for the club, wedging my way into the corners of business and learning the men.” He took a deep breath. “When I got out of the Marines, I was lost. Gibby and the brothers brought me a thing, a structure and brotherhood I needed. I’d have become a statistic, otherwise. I know it. Those were dark days. BFMC is a lot like the corps to me. Once a Marine, always a Marine, and likewise with the Borderline Freaks. So you sayin’ you don’t care about the club, that’ll have to be something you come to terms with, because I am the club.”
She studied his face, seeing nothing except a patient willingness to explain until she understood. If the club was that tied up in his personality, he was right, she had to care. Even if that meant abiding by some archaic gag order when it came to whatever had him troubled tonight. This felt like a watershed moment, where if she chose wrongly everything would come tumbling down around them.I choose him. And if that equated to the club, she’d find a way to be okay with that.
“Okay, Nate.” Jenn dropped her head to rest on the pillow of his arm, pressing a kiss against it before looking up at him. “As long as you promise to tell me what Icando, then I’ll do my best to not trespass where you don’t want.”
“It’s not trespassing to ask what’s wrong.” He moved closer, lips hovering over hers. “That’s you givin’ a shit about me.”
“I do give a shit.” She angled her chin and brushed a soft kiss across his mouth.
“You wanna know what you can do?”
She nodded and smiled, already anticipating the answer. His arms tightened around her, and they rolled, him on top as he kissed her deep and slow, his tongue gliding along her lips before spearing into her mouth.
