Page 17 of Blackbeard
“Call me if he acts up, sweetie. I’ll set him straight.”
By the time I emerged into the parking lot, Blackbeard dumped my suitcases and duffle bag next to my Jeep. Then heheaded for his bike—an Indian Scout that gleamed like melted chocolate in the light of the rising sun.
Behind me, the door of the clubhouse opened. I glanced back to see Torch, Scratch, and Cue Ball, heading for their bikes as they nodded in my direction. Dad probably sent them to keep an eye on me, to make sure that I arrived safely at Blackbeard’s place.
Blackbeard cast a quick look at them, then started his bike with a growling roar of his engine.
“Aren’t you going to invite me to ride with you?” I called, practically shouting to be heard over his bike. “It’s our wedding day.”
He met my gaze and arched an eyebrow. I wasn’t fooling him. This marriage didn’t come with a happily ever after. If I intended to get under Blackbeard’s skin and turn him against his club, I had my work cut out for me.
Chapter five
Blackbeard
I didn’t like this. Bringing Leigh into my home would get her one step closer to my family. This marriage was strictly club business. She was my wife in name only, for the sake of peace between our clubs.
A quick look in my side mirror showed three Forsaken trailing behind me. Leigh followed in her Jeep.
Popeye had rambled off a brief introduction of the Forsaken members before Church, but I didn’t give a shit about learning any of their names. And I certainly wasn’t happy that they were about to know exactly where I lived.
I couldn’t believe how fast everything had turned upside down in the last twelve hours. From the shootout, to breaking into Leigh’s apartment, to the Church meeting. Then signing my name on that goddamn marriage certificate.
Kingpin was right. I wanted someone to make a move. And I got my wish. I just never expected it to go sideways like this. I certainly never dreamed I’d get a wife out of the ordeal either.
After pulling into the driveway, I didn't wait for Leigh and her guard dogs to park, heading inside without them.
My house was a modernized adobe-style layout that my abuela had designed herself, to commemorate our lineage, sprawling throughout Mexico and the Southwestern United States.
Abuela grew up in a home like this, just as her grandmother, and her great-grandmother did before her. And when I had children of my own, she reasoned, I would raise them among the safety of these earthen walls that had served to shelter and protect my people for centuries.
I adored my abuela, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t likely going to give her any of those great-grandkids she was hoping for.
My boots echoed on the tile floor as I stepped inside. Dropping my keys on the end table, I scrubbed a hand over my face, fighting to hold my exhaustion at bay. All I wanted to do was sink into bed and sleep for a whole day.
But that wasn’t going to happen while Leigh and I were living under the same roof. Something in my gut nagged at me about her. I didn’t trust her, or her father. I found myself on edge, watchful, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
After five years of tangling with the Forsaken, it seemed too simple, too easy that we had buried the hatchet with an arranged marriage.
A moment later, I heard Leigh approach. The three Forsaken followed on her heels, hauling her belongings.
“Aren’t you supposed to carry me over the threshold into your home as your new wife?” Leigh prodded.
God, she was really milking this thing to torture me.
“From where I’m standing, you have two perfectly good legs," I countered. "It won’t kill you to walk.”
She stuck out her lower lip in a feigned pout and waltzed through the door.
“Well, then, how about a tour?”
I gestured vaguely, stubbornly refusing to cater to her whims.
The living room was off to the left. Around the corner and down a short hall was the kitchen. Master bedroom and two guest bedrooms were beyond that.
Then there was the corridor that led to the courtyard with a barbecue pit and what was supposed to be a garden, but I had a black thumb so it was full of nothing but weeds, much to my abuela’s chagrin.
“Home sweet home,” I said. “Don’t get comfortable. I’m still hoping to find a way to annul this marriage.”
