Page 37 of Road to Nowhere (Road to Nowhere 1)
I tried to remain calm, remembering the Jameson men were as stubborn as mules. âListen, okay? I care about you a lot. I will admit that. And maybe in a way, I do have feelings for you, but itâs nowhere near what I feel for Creed. Do you understand that? Maybe in another life or another time, it would have been different, but in this life, in this time⦠Iâm your brother's. And Iâm not going to apologize for that.â The air grew so thick between us. I was surprised I could still see him through the dense fog filling the small space. I didnât want to hurt him. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I reached over and grabbed his hand, placing it on my belly. âWeâre both in this for the long run.â Gesturing toward my stomach. âNo one is ever going to take that away from you. Youâre her father. Always and forever. Iâll never keep her from you. I promise you that. I give you my word.â
As if on cue, baby girl kicked, making Noah and me laugh. I was glad she chose that moment to break up the tension that filled the entire room. There were no more words to be had after that, when there were probably hundreds that should have been spoken. We spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies on the couch, laughing and eating popcorn, but my thoughts never drifted far from Creed. And as much as I wanted to pretend that this was the end of our compromising situation. I knew Noahâs mind never drifted far fromâ¦
Me.
NINE
*Creed*
I took one last drag of my cigarette, stubbing it out on the side of the safe house, flicking it out to the front yard. Mia told me some shit about always making sure I put out my cigs before throwing them into the woods. Rambling on about needing to prevent forest fires. A fucking bear named Smokey taught her that in school when she was younger. I looked at her like she was fucking crazy, reminding her that bears didnât talk.
I donât know where she came up with half the shit that left her mouth, but I loved her nonetheless. I chuckled to myself, remembering the morning I was teasing her about sleeping on me instead of on the bed. She responded with some more shit about us being fucking lobsters. Mating for life. Trying to convince me that was how they slept. Saying her Aunt Lily had been telling her that story all her life, and that she needed to find her own lobster one day.
So, I guess I was her fucking lobster. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.
I nodded over at the two brothers who were standing guard outside, before opening the front door to the safe house.
âHey!â Mia called out from the couch when she saw me walking in. âYou actually came back during daylight. This is new. I was beginning to think you were only nocturnal.â She smiled, walking over to where I stood. Rising up on the tips of her toes to kiss me. âI like it.â
âI fuckinâ missed you.â
âI missed you, too.â
I hadnât seen her in a few days, too many for my liking.
It had been well over a month and a half since sheâd gone missing. Nothing had changed back at the clubhouse, same olâ shit different day. We continued to run in circles, heading down the same road to nowhere. Watching over our shoulders everywhere we went, just waiting for more bullshit to occur.
I kept thinking about the cryptic text message Martinez had sent me the day he died. But to be honest, I was so consumed with the situation at hand that I had no time to actually put any effort into it. As soon as I knew Mia was out of harmâs way, you best believe Iâd be getting to the fucking bottom of it. There was a reason he sent me that compromising photo of my ma. I just needed to take some time and look at the disc he gave me. I had a feeling I wasnât going to fucking like what I saw.
Miaâs parentsâ still held onto the hope that their baby girl would be found, safe and sound. Organizing search parties, holding town meetings, and spreading missing person signs up all over the nearby counties.
I hated walking into the convenience stores, seeing Miaâs face plastered all over the registers. Only reminding me she didnât deserve this. Detective McGraw was more relentless than ever, still sticking his nose where it didnât fucking belong. If it wasnât for Mia considering him as family, I would have put him to ground already. He was a cocky son of a bitch who rubbed me the wrong way one too many times. The more time I spent at the clubhouse, the more I realized this was no fucking place for Mia to be hanging out.
Especially with a baby girl.
The clubâs normal activities were worse now than ever. The boys were getting restless, their minds focused solely on figuring out what the hell was going on and who wanted our fucking turf. Club whores, drugs, and booze were the only way weâd ever blown off steam. I never stayed more than I had to anymore. Foregoing the festivities. Taking care of club business and coming back to Mia was the only thing on my mind these days.
âIâm fuckinâ filthy. Need a shower, babe. Donât get too close.â
âI donât care. Iâll take you any way I can, Creed Jameson. Iâll even join you in the shower.â
âIs that right? You like it when I make you nice and dirty, Mia Savannah Ryder?â
She gave me a questioning look. âHow did you know my middââ
I kissed her, throwing my backpack to the ground, picking her up by her ass so she could straddle my waist. âPippin, how you smell so fuckinâ good all the time?â She giggled in that cute-as-shit sort of way when I started to rub my facial hair all over her neck. I hadnât been shaving lately, no time. âWhoâs my girl?â
She melted in my arms as I carried her back to my room, spending the rest of the morning proving to her that she was. Not giving a damn about what Noah said on the porch. She was my girl, and I wanted to fuck her.
So, I did.
âI was going to do my laundry today. I donât have any more clean clothes here,â Mia informed, coming out of the bathroom. Walking around my room with a towel wrapped around her, while I threw on a pair of clean jeans.
Foregoing a shirt.
âGrab one of my shirts from the dresser and meet me in the kitchen so you can make me a sandwich.â
âExcuse me, I didnât hear a please in that sentence.â
I grinned, pecking her lips. âIf I was gonna say please, might as well do it myself.â I spanked her ass, and she yelped. âFeed your man, heâs fuckinâ starvinâ.â
âOkay.â She nodded, side stepping me. âIâll go find him.â
I chuckled, gripping onto the back of her towel. Tugging her against my chest, I wrapped my arms around her from behind. âYou mad cuz I didnât say yeah?â
âYeah isnât a please,â she sassed, trying to block off my attempt to tickle her neck with my beard.
âBut look at ya. Already barefoot and pregnant, just how I want you. Now make me a fuckinâ sandwich, yeah?â
âYouâre such a barbarian!â she laughed, swatting me away. Her weak efforts to get free were no match for me.
I spanked her ass again, letting her go. âAnd itâs why you fuckinâ love me.â
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she walked over to my dresser. I left to go wait for my sandwich in the kitchen. It didnât take long for her to find me sitting at the island, looking sexy as sin with my shirt on. Her perky tits showing through the white fabric that fell just above her knees. I made a mental note to have her wear my clothes more often.
âWhatâs this?â she asked, trying to hide her amused expression. Throwing a bunch of baby magazines on the counter, right in front of where I sat. âFound them in your drawer when I was grabbing one of your shirts.â
âBrought these back for us. Thought we could find some baby shit together.â
She smiled wide, her face beaming. âIâd love that. Iâll go make you your sandwich first.â Stepping in between my legs, she threw her arms around my neck and whispered against my lips, âIâll even throw in some French fries and a milkshake.â
I kissed her. âGood to know ya came to your senses and realized your place, woman,â I joked.
But not really.
*Mia*
I swear he lo
ved trying to get a rise out of me. Although he was right, I did love him, barbarian and all. There was something about his way with words that I found sexy. He was crude, vulgar, and said what he felt or thought, no matter what.
But he was one hell of a man.
My man.
I made him lunch, deciding to make some for myself, as well. Baby girl was starving. She had the appetite of her daddy and Creed. Most of the food would always be gone because of them, even though they werenât around every day like I was. They reminded me a lot of Mason and Bo. Momma was constantly stocking our cabinets, yelling about them eating us out of house and home.
I set the knife down on the counter, feeling a sharp pain in my chest. My heart breaking into a million pieces at the mere thought of my family, again. I missed them so much, and each day away from them became far worse than the day before. It didnât help that I knew they were worried sick. No parent should ever have to go through this.
I placed my hand on my belly, imagining myself in their shoes. How awful it would be to lose a child and not have any idea where they were or how to find them. How to bring them back home safely. I prayed every night that they still felt my presence, knowing I was still alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere. Hoping it would at least give them some peace when there wasnât any to be had.
I shook off the haunting thoughts and pain in my heart, focusing on lunch. Trying to suppress the ache as best as I could. It probably didnât help that Noah hadnât been coming around as often as before, either. I knew he was trying to keep his distance from me like I requested. But I didnât mean for him to not come around at all. It made me sad just thinking about it. I didnât like being the cause of another personâs pain.
âPippin, why donât ya tell me some of your favorite things so I can try to bring âem back for you,â Creed remarked, pulling me away from yet another plaguing thought.
I spun around, glancing back at him from the stove. He was looking down at one of the baby magazines, flipping the pages with a marker in his hand.
âWhat?â I questioned, caught off guard by what he was doing.
âYou heard me,â he simply stated, flipping another page.
âWhat kind of things?â
âJust some of your favorite shit.â He shrugged, still not looking up at me, marking something down on one of the pages in the magazine.
What was he doing? âLike what? Give me some direction.â
âFavorite books, movies, food, lotion for your bellyâshit like that. Anythinâ to make the time go by faster for you and baby girl. Know you been gettinâ restless and donât fuckinâ blame ya.â
âLotion for my belly? How do you know about pregnant women putting lotion on their bellies?â
âRead it in one of these magazines.â
âYou read that tidbit right now?â
âAinât got all fuckinâ day, Pippin, out with it,â he asserted in a neutral tone, ignoring my question.
âOkayâ¦â I grabbed our food off the counter, setting his plate in front of him. He didnât waste any time, picking up his sandwich and taking a huge bite. His eyes never wavered from the pages of the magazine.
I finished preparing our milkshakes, deciding to stay standing on the other side of the island to eat. So I could nonchalantly get a better look at what he was doing. âMy favorite books are anything in the romance genre, pretty much, especially historical romances. I guess you could say I love the old-school heroes who were in charge of everything. Alpha male types who were dominant and demanding. Kind of assholes with hearts of gold, which is all that matters.â
He hid his grin, placing the straw between his lips and sucking down his milkshake.
âThe Bronze Horseman are my all-time favorite books, theyâre a trilogy⦠but uh⦠do you like to read?â I casually asked. Noahâs words echoed in my mind about not knowing a thing about him. Silently hoping he would answer my question and not disregard it again.
âWhen it interests me.â
Out of the corner of my eye, the Parenting 101 magazine beside him, caught my attention. My stare wandered from one magazine to the next, noticing for the first time that all the bindings were worn, and the pages were somewhat crinkled.
I bit down on my lower lip, suppressing a squeal. Excitement bubbled from deep within me. About to erupt like an active volcano. These werenât new, at least not for him. Heâd read them before bringing them to me. My eyes immediately went back to the magazine lying open in front of him, finally realizing what he was jotting down. It wasnât a magazine he was gazing at this whole time. It was a Babies R Us catalog. He was circling the things he likedâfurniture, toys, and anything else that interested him.
My heart melted at the sight of him. The initiative he had, planning for baby girlâs arrival. I wanted to go over to him and tackle him to the ground. But I stayed put, mentally biting my tongue. If I called him out on it, he would stop. Iâd embarrass him. He was trying to play it off like it wasnât a big deal. As if what he was doing didnât mean anything to me.
When it meant everything.
âSo, what other shit you like to do, besides surfinâ?â
âOh! I love that crib!â I blurted after he circled it.
He nodded, not paying me any mind. âFigured you would since your favorite color is pink. Baby girl will prolly love pink, too. Just keep it in her room, yeah? Donât want our place to turn into a fuckinâ playroom.â
I jerked back, confused. âOur place?â
He set the marker down, leaned back on the barstool, and pulled something shiny out of his jean pocket. âCome here,â he ordered, finally peering up at me with an expression I couldnât read.
I did, rounding the island till I was close enough for him to grab my hand. He pulled me in between his legs, caging me with his arms placed on the granite behind me.
âThe clubhouse ainât no place for a baby girl to be runninâ around. Screaminâ, hollerinâ, fuckinâ playinâ. Maâs house will always be my home, but it ainât ours. Ya feel me?â
âYes.â
âGood.â He softly kissed me. âGot us a place, a house on the water so you can surf whenever you want. Itâs near your parentsâ place, but not too close that they become a bigger pain in my ass. Hoping maybe one day they will accept me, but donât hold it against them if they never do. I wouldnât want my baby girl with a fuckinâ biker, either. But Iâm tryinâ, Mia. Wanna change for you, have changed for you. Time to start a life with you and baby girl. I know I ainât the biological father, but it donât matter. Sheâs mine, too. Already love her like sheâs my own. I wanna be the man you deserve, babe.â
My eyes watered with tears.
âI know youâre young, but from the second I met you, youâve been wiser beyond your years. Often puttinâ me in my place, only person I ever let do that,â he chuckled, rubbing the tip of his nose back and forth on mine before he pulled away, staring me deep in the eyes. âYou got your whole life ahead of ya, and if youâll take me, Iâll spend each one of those fuckinâ days by your side. Protectinâ you, cherishinâ you, and lovinâ you. Grateful as fuck you let me.â
âOh my God, Creed, are you proposââ
âNo, Iâm doinâ somethinâ that means more to me than that. Somethinâ I never thought Iâd fuckinâ do,â he interrupted, reaching around to grab his cut from the back of the barstool. Handing it to me with a huge grin on his face.
I took it in my hands, noticing it was much smaller than the one he wore. My eyes widened as soon as I took in the embroidered stitching on the back.
âProperty of Creed,â I read out loud, locking eyes with him.
âThis is your cut. You wear this and everyone knows youâre mine. No one fucks with you, unless they wanna fuck with me. And trust me, babe, no one wants to fuck with me.â He grabbed the black leather from me, turned it around, and laid it on the counter. Nodding to the front side. âAdded some patches, too.â
âLove the life you live. Live th
e life you love,â I recited one of them, moving onto the next. âDespite the look on my face, youâre still talking,â I laughed, while he wiped away some of my happy tears. âLa la la Iâm not listening.â He grinned when he saw me eyeing the last few. âA womenâs place is on her manâs face,â I huffed, shaking my head, moving on to another. âDonât mess with a bikerâs old lady, unless you want to die.â
He smiled wide. âThat oneâs my favorite.â
âOf course it would be,â I giggled, reading the last patch. âDonât even look at me. My biker is VP.â
There were no words to express how I felt in that moment, especially when I read the patch Pippin where my name should be. My mind drifted to the night I went to the party at the clubhouse, remembering how I saw some women wearing cuts. Never imagining I would be one of them in my lifetime. I now understood why none of the brothers were looking at them the way they did with the other women. They were already taken.
This was the MCâs wedding ring.
âSo this means youâre officially claiminâ me?â
âBaby, I claimed you the day you were born. You were made for me.â
I threw my arms around him, kissing all over his face. His words hit me in the feels, consuming every fiber of my being. I couldnât believe this was happening. It was all I ever wanted, for as long as I could remember.
He abruptly stood, taking me with him. Lifting me up like I weighed nothing, wrapping my legs around his waist. Walking us back to his room.
âI like to be outside, feel the sun, the breeze, the air all around me. Itâs what I like to do other than surfing,â I answered his question from earlier in between kissing his face. âWhat about you? Whatâs your favorite thing to do?â
He kicked the door shut behind him, laying me down on the bed and hovered above me. Looking deep into my eyes, he said, âYou, Mia. Beinâ with you is my favorite fuckinâ thing to do.â
And with that, he handed me the key to the new house that he bought for us, so I would love him more than I already did.