Thumper by Marie James

Chapter 27

Cara

Ivy gives me a small smile from the couch.

“Am I bothering you? I can go back to the room.”

“Your pacing doesn’t bother me. Is there something I can do to calm your nerves?”

“Would I be judged if I started drinking at nine in the morning?”

She chuckles, but then her face grows serious. “I don’t think drinking to deal with stress would be the best thing.”

“It was a joke.” She lifts an eyebrow, her lip twitching. “Mostly. It was mostly a joke.”

“We can go somewhere else.”

“It’s fine.”

But is it really? Ivy told me earlier that the guys, including Javier are coming back today, but she didn’t have any more information than that.

“Is it hard?” I ask, trying to keep my eyes off the huge front window, but every time I circle back, the clubhouse across the street comes into view.

“What’s that?”

“Your husband keeping so many secrets from you.”

“I don’t really consider them secrets. It would be no different if he worked for a company that required an NDA to protect a client’s information.”

“You don’t question where he goes when he’s gone for days at a time?”

“No,” she answers without hesitation. “I trust him fully.”

I continue to pace but keep my eyes off of her. I have no idea what it would be like to fully trust someone. I don’t see myself ever having the privilege. Hell, my mother thought it was a good idea and necessary for me to get into heaven if I married the same man she married. If I can’t trust her, who can I trust?

“You have to remember that I was raised in the club around amazing men. My dad, Morrison, Dustin, Jaxon, Rob, and my Uncle Dominic set a very good example of how men should treat women. Griffin grew up in that same environment. He knew how to treat people, and I knew how I was supposed to be treated.”

“A fairy tale,” I say, but I’m not angry she had all of that growing up. If anything, I’m a little jealous. “Everyone should have the same.”

“And it’s super shitty that they don’t, but many have found it in adulthood. Simone is loved, and she wasn’t a part of the club growing up.”

There’s no sense in dreaming. My life is never going to be a happily ever after with a man who won’t try to hurt me or manipulate me in some way. Those men may exist here, but not in the world I live in.

“Yay,” Ivy says, popping up from the couch. She claps her hands like she just came downstairs on Christmas morning and everything on her list plus more is under the tree. “They’re back!”

I stand frozen in the middle of her living room, watching the long line of black SUVs as they roll into the parking lot across the street. She scurries around putting her shoes on before bolting out the front door. It only takes the sight of her back as she walks quickly across the yard heading for the clubhouse before I’m following her.

The men pile out of the vehicles full of smiles and apparent gratitude to be home. Gigi, Ivy’s twin, squeals like a kid as she runs toward Hound. He catches her in his arms as she presses her face into his beard. His hands grip her bottom in a way that makes it very clear what they’ll be doing soon.

Where Ivy is a little more laid-back and private, Gigi, I’ve discovered, is a wild child. She has no issues talking about sex and the things she and Hound get up to in the bedroom, and I’ll never tell anyone, but I like that she normalizes her pleasure rather than only whispering about it. I was more comfortable with her talking about her sex life than I was with those that whispered things when they didn’t know I was listening.

I don’t want to be protected from things like that. I don’t want people to think they can’t say what’s on their minds in fear of upsetting me. I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to normal if it keeps happening.

Ivy wraps her arms around Griffin’s neck, and I almost sigh when his eyes flutter closed when he pulls her close.

I have no idea what it would feel like to be the center of a man’s world the way these women are, but it sure looks nice.

Emmalyn comes out of the front door of the clubhouse, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Kincaid presses his lips to hers in a sweet but chaste kiss before cupping her jaw in his huge hand and whispering something to her.

Cannon, the sweet man that made me eggs yesterday morning, rushes out of the clubhouse, scooping Rivet in his arms before carrying her away on a chorus of giggles I would’ve never expected from the tough-looking woman.

“Are you okay?”

I turn my head to see Ivy and Griffin standing beside me. He has her tucked into his side, her palm resting lightly on his stomach.

“I’m good.”

“Do you want to see him?” Ivy asks.

I look around, noticing some of the guys, the ones I guess are unattached, unloading equipment fit more for a SWAT team than bikers from the SUVs. Mia appears on the front steps, her eyes finding mine. She gives me a small nod, a gesture I read as telling me everything is fine. It’s also permission to feel and react however I feel is necessary. Then her eyes land on Scooter—Ryan as she calls him—and that look is what I want. I want to have suffered what I went through and still be able to find the light at the end of the tunnel that gives me permission to be happy. Scooter drops the bags in his hands and quickly makes his way to her, then whispers something that makes her smile wider before he wraps his arms around her and draws her against him like they both suffered from the separation.

“Cara?” Ivy prods again.

“I don’t know.”

“Whatever you decide is fine. We can go back to the house,” Ivy offers, and it’s a testament to her kindness that she’s willing to be here for me when I know how much she’s been missing her husband. “You’re shaking.”

I can only nod in response.

“You could close your eyes right now and trust that you’re safe. You’re surrounded by nothing but good men, good people who would risk their lives to keep you safe.”

Tears burn my eyes once again, something I’ve grown used to since arriving on Cerberus property.

“I need to know he isn’t a monster,” I whisper, and she gives me a small smile, knowing exactly who I’m referring to.

“Let’s go.” She clasps my hand, her palm warm and comforting in mine.

I keep my stride even with hers because I don’t want to look weak, as if I’m being dragged behind her. When we circle around the back of one of the SUVs, I see two bikers, ones I haven’t really met yet, standing with their backs to us in the open door of one of the SUVs.

“Goddamn it. Stop. You said you no longer wanted to kill me.” The familiar voice reaches my ears, and I freeze in my tracks.

One of the guys chuckles. “Come on, asshole. Let us fucking help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” Javier grumbles. “Just give me a fucking minute.”

His voice sounds like he’s spent the last week screaming. The gravel of it makes me drop Ivy’s hand and step forward.

“Excuse me,” I say when I approach.

The guys step aside, and I see Javier slouched over in the backseat. His face is bruised and swollen, and he has a cast on his left forearm.

“Let them help you.”

His eyes snap up to mine, his face screwing up in pain from the quick movement.

“Cara?”

He looks like he’s seen a ghost, his mouth falling open on a gasp.

“Let them help you,” I repeat.

Instead of being stubborn or questioning why I’m here, he nods. The guys notice and move in to help him the second I take a step back.

His injuries must be more extensive than I initially thought because they don’t grip him under the arms to help him walk. They reach in and literally carry him out of the vehicle, each man holding him under his legs.

I lose his gaze when he squeezes his eyes closed, but he doesn’t cuss at them or scream in pain even though it’s obvious that’s exactly what he’s feeling.

As if they have a mind of their own, my feet carry me behind them. Mia squeezes my hand when I pass, another offer of solidarity, and I wait in the hall while the guys try to situate him on the bed without hurting him too much. The room he goes into is the same one I used for the few days before going across the street to Ivy’s house.

“They’re going to give him some morphine.” I jolt at the voice near me, feeling a little calmer when I see Kincaid standing there.

Ivy told me I was safe. Hell, every person here has said it over and over, but apparently, my mind hasn’t fully accepted it.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I should’ve called to you from the hallway. He’s got a broken wrist, damage to his left eardrum, and a concussion. More cuts and stitches than I want to think about, but he’s going to be okay.”

I nod, unsure why he’s telling me all of this without me asking, but I’m grateful to know.

“Lauren has gone back to work, so she’s not returning. Thump—Javier has seen a doctor. Spent two days in a hospital in Mexico City. He doesn’t seem to have any real lasting damage, but he’s got a lot of healing to do.”

“How long does he get to stay?”

“He’s Cerberus,” Kincaid says before he walks away like I know what that even means.