Raiden (Satan’s Angels MC #2)

Chapter 18

Raiden

H ell is freezing this morning.

Penny banged on my door, since my room is right beside Gray’s, and she has her own little room in his large living area. She snuck out while her mom was having an early morning shower and woke me up, demanding that I come into the kitchen and let her make me pretty.

There’s no disappointing a four-year-old, especially when she’s as adorable as my niece.

I’m sitting across the table from her in the clubhouse kitchen while Lark whips up a batch of waffles, letting Penny massacres—I mean paint—my nails.

“This is called a mwanicar,” she explains while she slops bright pink nail polish over half my index finger.

I bite down on a laugh. “Is it? I see.”

She’s all my sister and there’s not a minute of looking at her that I’m not reminded of Lark when she was that age. I’m seven years older than her. I took the protective big brother role seriously. That was the worst part about prison. I couldn’t be there to watch her. Couldn’t take her to her prom. I was there when she fell in love with my best friend because she’d been doing that since she was old enough to love even though I was too blind to see it at the time—but I wasn’t there when he fell for her. I couldn’t stop her from leaving and the only thing that brought her back was our mom getting sick.

She stayed because of Gray, but for our family too. We both went a lot of years without that. Family.

It’s good to be back.

It makes me realize that no matter how sickening going to that warehouse and taking down those men was, I’d do it a thousand times over for these people and for this.

“I should treat Widow to a spa day of our own,” Lark says as she loads batter into the waffle maker. I don’t know where it came from, but it’s heart shaped, which is just about the strangest thing we have around here.

“You had some girl time at the range.”

Lark twists up her mass of thick hair, wet from her shower, and snaps an elastic around the messy bun.

“I was a bi- uh, not nice at the range.”

Penny happily slicks a thick as fuck coat of pink onto my thumb nail. At this rate, it should take approximately six million years to dry.

“And then we almost died and everything’s different.”

“I invited her over for dinner at Dad’s.”

Lark’s brows shoot up. She pops the waffle maker open, steps back from the steam, and forks out a perfect heart before greasing the thing and pouring in another.

“Before this. I know it’s not my house, but it’s literally our family home and we haven’t been there enough since Mom died. You and Gray and Penny should come too. I was counting on asking you and having you accept,” I say as I glance at my pink fingertips.

“You meant to force us to get along.”

“I did.”

She cuts up the waffle, spreads syrup on it and brings it over to Penny. She eagerly takes the fork and shovels in a bite while holding the dripping nail brush in her other hand. Lark put down a plastic tablecloth on the old Formica table in here, but that shit is going to eat right through it.

“She said it was too much before…” I subtly guide the brush back over the bottle of polish and cap it. Toxic smells and waffles don’t mix well. “If I ask her again, she’d agree, I think.”

Lark shoots a worried look over the top of Penny’s head while my niece obliviously munches down half of that huge waffle, smacking, licking her lips, and getting an entire syrup bottle all over herself.

“Zale’s still out there,” Lark whispers.

“He’s always going to be out there. This is just our life now. One threat or another popping up when it pops up. We have to learn to live with it. Zale was a threat even when we didn’t know it. He was planning and biding his time when none of us even knew he was alive. Our time of peace has been shaky for longer than we ever imagined. We need to go back to living like we’re going to be okay, appreciating life all the more, with that little bit of extra caution.”

After rounding the large island to shovel out the fresh waffles and get another cooking, Lark crosses her arms. She looks like she’s working out what she needs to say, so I leave the silence. I don’t stare at her either, pressuring her. I glance at the straight row of gray cabinets, the white quartz countertops, the stainless-steel sink. The kitchen was redone a few years ago, since the makeshift one left here when the warehouse was turned into a clubhouse was a piece of shit. I guess it’s pretty fancy for a biker clubhouse but considering recently we’ve been having extra visitors during the lockdown when families stayed for protection, it came in handy. Now everyone save for Gray’s family has gone back to their own places, it’s only Lark who uses it regularly—and maybe some of the brothers who like to cook.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here now,” Lark says soberly. “I need to find a job. Get back to doing something regular. I know it’ll be some time before our new house is ready, so this is as close to a home as we have for the time being. Penny’s going to be in school right away. I already have her registered, even though I debated not going through with it with what’s been going on. I thought about homeschooling.”

Thinking about what she just said makes me wonder about Ella would fit here. Not that it hasn’t been constantly on my mind already.

Lark and I might not have spent a lot of time together in the past five years, but she reads my mind just as easily as if we’d never been apart. “What do you think Widow might like to do?”

“For work?”

“Yeah. She’s staying, isn’t she?” My sister is far too perceptive. I can’t look away and I can’t keep a stony enough expression. “Raiden,” she murmurs. “You’re so far gone.” She slaps the waffle maker open. “If she leaves and hurts you, I don’t care that she saved me or that I want to be her friend and I know I’ve been awful. I’ll be awful again. I’ll never speak to her.”

“It might not be her choice, Lark.” My sister still slaps that waffle down angrily, drowns the stack in syrup, and brings it to me. “It’s not that simple,” I try to reason. “It’s not just about loyalty or doing what her father says. She had a life before. She’s almost got her PhD, did you know that?”

Lark chokes. “Why would I know that?” She cleans up for Penny, who is done and listening to us intently.

“Don’t wreck your nails,” she challenges in her little girl bossy voice, staring at the travesty that is my left hand.

At least I can eat with my right. I leave the still drying, probably forever drying, left hand flat on the table.

“In what?” She takes Penny’s plate to the sink and stands over there, processing what I just told her.

“English literature. She wanted to teach at one time.”

“High school?”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh my god. She’s smart. Smart and beautiful. You never stood a chance, did you?”

I’m the one who almost chokes now, delicious waffle sticking in my throat. I force it down with great effort. “She doesn’t have to teach. I’m not sure she wants to anymore. She could write. Go into communications or something. I don’t know what she’s been doing for her dad’s club, but I’d like to talk her into finishing her PhD here if she can.” I’d like to find out what her dreams are. Whatever she wants to do, I’d support her fully. “I need to help her find out what she’s passionate about.”

Lark rolls her eyes while she pours more batter into the maker. “Gross.”

“Lark.”

She shuts the lid, batter hissing out the side because she overloaded it. “Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re siblings who ended up with siblings?”

“It happens.”

“Life is strange. You never see half the stuff coming.”

“Good thing for that, or who would want to live it?” Knowing the future would be awful, although, helpful sometimes. As in, if I’d known that Zale Grand was going to betray me and get me locked up, I would have put a bullet into his head and lived with those consequences instead.

“How are… your things?” Lark mumbles, not meeting my eye.

“What things?”

“I know that you don’t like to talk about it, but I know not everything’s okay like you pretend it is. I know you weren’t sleeping. You were making a pizza in the middle of the night when I came back or buzzing around the house cleaning up or refusing to sit still more nights than not.”

I glance at Penny, who is still listening raptly. I shake my fork at her, making her grin. “I’ll be okay.”

“Gray’s still your best friend. Talk to him, Ray, please. Or talk to someone. Not just if things get out-of-control bad. Don’t let it get that far.”

“Ella wants me to talk to someone too.”

“Ella?”

“Widow. Don’t look at me like that, Lark. I’m not going to do it because she said so and ignore you. you don’t have to be put out.”

“You definitely don’t have to be put out.”

Widow walks into the kitchen, such a picture of beauty wearing my t-shirt, so huge and long on her that it’s longer than her dress from last night, barefoot, makeup smudged and hair a crazy mess, that my lungs go into some kind of trauma and refuse to work. Her eyes glimmer bright as the sun most of my club brothers won’t see until well into the evening, when it’s setting. Hangovers are real and I’m sure that it’s a malady that most of them are going to have after last night.

She crosses to the table and drops a kiss on my cheek that makes my face flame hot. She’s not doing it for show, but because she wants to. It feels almost domestic, almost normal, almost like I could get used to it.

She picks up my left hand and gives Penny the thumbs up. “Looking good. I love the color choice.” Her fist goes lightly into my shoulder, ribbing me. “Aren’t you the best uncle who ever lived?”

“I have another bottle that’s just sparkles that I’m going to put on top!” Penny announces eagerly.

Widow slides my plate over, takes the fork dangling from my fingertips, and cuts off a chunk of my waffles. She pops them in her mouth and chews, looking so goddamn sexy that I’d be hard if it wasn’t for the fact that I have an audience who happens to be related to me in here.

I don’t know what I am when she cuts a second piece and brings the fork to my lips, feeding me.

Done the fuck in is probably an apt description.

“I love how the pink covers up and blends in with all the oil stains,” Widow points out.

“How much of that did you hear?” I ask her privately.

“Enough to know that your rough and tough cracked heart is in the best place,” she whispers back. She strokes my jaw and gets back up. “Coffee?”

I hope to god she’s wearing underwear under that shirt. If I wasn’t obligated to sit here and let Penny finish the manicure, I’d take her right back to our room and find out.

Our. Room. Christ. Is it?

Also, am I going to have to wear this polish for days just to make sure I don’t hurt Penny’s feelings? My club brothers will love that. They’ll tease me unmercifully, but they’ll all think it’s adorable—I’ve seen how my brothers with kids are around their family. I don’t think things would be the same in other clubs, but if anyone wanted to fight me over the pink polish, I’d be happy to kick their ass or take a beating.

Widow gets a pot of coffee going. She pours some for Lark without offering and sets it down beside her while she continues to work the waffle maker.

“Can I do your toes too after this?” Penny asks, picking up the brush again.

I smother a groan. “Why not?”

Widow brings me a coffee and thumps her mug down on the table next to mine. She grabs her lush hair and looks at Penny thoughtfully. “I’d love it if you’d work your magic on this too. That is, if you have time to pencil me in after the manicure and pedicure you’re working so hard at.”

“Yes!” Penny squeals. “I know how to do a braid.”

“A braid would be perfect.”

I could kiss Widow. I want to kiss Widow. She might never tame down, but I don’t want her to. I just want to see more of this side of her. The side that wakes up super early in the morning, kisses my cheek like we’re lovers, steals my waffles, and makes me coffee. The side of her where her eyes turn to emeralds and dance like there’s nothing in the world that could ever make her unhappy again.

This side of Widow makes me feel like we could have a life together. It makes me feel like I could be the kind of man who is more than just an ex-con, a son who was disowned by his parents, a man most of this town probably sees as a biker thug.

My stomach is so full of aching hope that it makes my throat hurt. It’s hard to swallow anything more, so I pass my waffles over to Widow. She makes quick work of them, sighing in pure delight.

I’m going to make her sigh in a different kind of delight later. I’ll tease her that it’s punishment for how she worked me up in here.

She watches on so innocently it makes my teeth hurt with wanting her. “What do you do here?”

“Work on my bike and my truck at the garage, but mostly, I get paid to do the club’s books.”

Her eyes crinkle in amusement as she smiles. “It would be hard to find an accountant for that kind of thing.”

I don’t want to wreck the levity, especially with my niece and sister right here listening, but I can’t stop myself. “If I didn’t have the club, it would be hard to find work outside of it.” I can see that she gets that. I elaborate anyway. “I’m putting my world back together. The club’s books might be the club’s books, but there’s a lot of work there and I’m good at it. It’s not a token job. Keep everything and everyone honest and accounted for takes up a lot of time.”

She sighs dramatically. “Nerdiness has never been so hot.” The way she leans in and whispers in my ear makes me filthy hot. “Talk numbers to me in bed next time.”

I feel myself blushing when I catch Lark frowning. I realize what we’re acting like here. A couple near smitten with each other.

Lark isn’t the kind to not say anything, so when she’s done with the waffles, leaving a huge stack on the counter to cool, she walks over and sits down at the table beside me. She does eye Widow cautiously.

“What are your plans?”

“Find work. Make friends. Try to learn to love this place. Same as anyone who relocates,” Widow says as she takes a mouthful of coffee.

Penny finishes with the pink polish at last and reaches for the bottle of gold sparkles I didn’t even see. She shakes it crazily, grinning madly. “You’re going to be the prettiest, uncle.”

“I have no doubt, sweetheart.”

“I second that,” Widow agrees. “Your uncle is the prettiest here.”

“What are your plans together?” Lark is all sweetness, but the undercurrent of protective curiosity is there in her words.

Widow and I look at each other at the same time. I think that’s a question we need to answer together. I’m half pissed Lark would even ask something like that. A soft pink blush heats her cheeks. She looks so pretty when she’s soft. When she’s not under threat and doesn’t feel like she’s constantly being tested and judged, I bet her smiles would dazzle. I bet she’d be the kind of woman who would do the small things because she knows how much they count. She’s the kind to live free, live hard, and probably love free and hard too. Falling for her wouldn’t be hard.

It has been absurdly easy so far.

“I’m not sure that we have an answer for that yet. We’re just trying to get to know each other and figure out what a future here would look like. Happiness is a tall order for anyone and being a couple? That’s something that you have to build over a lifetime. But… our lives are legally bound together. I think we’re both working on making the best of that to the best of our ability.”

Widow grins, her smile beyond dazzling. I guess I answered that the right way. Even Lark cracks a smile. She opens the glittery gold polish for Penny. “That’s going to look real pretty when we go to dinner at Grandpa’s.”

“When?” Penny asks hopefully.

“Soon. We’ll make it happen soon, honey.” She extends the invitation to Widow with a genuine kindness that makes me so fucking proud and grateful. “Raiden told me he asked you before, but the timing wasn’t right. I’m hoping that we can make it right within the next week. If you’re coming, we’d love to have you both there. Family dinners should include all family.”

The dazzling smile never slips, not even when Widow’s dark green eyes mist over. “I’d like that.” She elbows me gently. “You should leave the polish on. I’m sure your dad would love to see Penny’s handiwork.”

I have some shit going on, but I’m secure enough in myself as a man that walking around with pink polish possibly for a week doesn’t scare me. Honestly, the humor and teasing I’ll take from my club brothers would lighten the mood around here and we all need more of that.

“Will you, Uncle Raiden?” Penny asks so hopefully.

“Absolutely, Penster. I’d be happy to show it off.”