Savage Love (Back Down Devil MC #7)(54)

Ella couldn’t stop crying. It had been a long time coming.





nineteen.



Sitting on that f*cking rock. Jerry’s little skimpy hand over her shoulder, holding her tight. Nudging at her to make the cheap move and swipe a kiss. But then he wouldn’t let the kiss stop. Jamming his f*cking tongue in her mouth. Pulling at her when she looked like she wanted to slink away.

Miller held his pinky finger up and stared at the glistening diamond ring. He couldn’t believe that after all these years the damn thing still held such a good shine. That definitely made it worth the f*cking cost, that’s for sure. Christ. Miller was supposed to throw money at a new ride but settled for what he had and used all his money to buy the ring. Even after shit hit the fan Miller had the chance to return the diamond for an almost refund, but he decided to the keep the ring.

Because someday he always believed Ella would wear it.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he saw it all happening, too. Him walking up to that damn rock, his face bloody from the fight, dropping to one knee, and just going after his future once and for all. Ella would have said yes. She would have jumped into his arms and…

“Boss?”

Miller looked back and saw Blaine standing with two women.

“I’m fine,” Miller said.

Blaine moved from the women. He came to the table and jumped up, then sat next to Miller.

“Rough night?” he asked.

“Rough everything,” Miller said. “I’m the President of a MC, brother. My focus can’t go anywhere else.”

“Ah, that’s bullshit. We’ve got this thing locked up. Your plan is solid. We’ll isolate him and gut him. Plus, he’s ditched Coast Road. That means he’s already desperate and worried.”

“I know,” Miller said.

“So what happened up there with her?”

“The past.”

“Talking about what could have been, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“You can’t do that,” Blaine said. “Not with her right in front of you.”

Miller looked at Blaine. “Sometimes you talk like you’re a half decent guy.”

“Cool it with that half decent shit. These two behind me think I’m a terrible person. I like it that way. They’re going to do terrible things to me. Then I’m going to do even more terrible things to them.”

“Good for you,” Miller said.

“What are you so worried about?” Blaine asked. “I mean, what’s making you and Ella fight?”

“That night. It was so f*cked up. And the air isn’t clear.”

“So clear it.”

“I don’t want to. It won’t change a thing.”

“So forget about it,” Blaine said.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because… that baby…”

Miller closed his mouth.

“Well, goddamn,” Blaine said. “The big, tough President of the MC wants a baby.”

“Stop that. I’ll knock you out.”

“I’m serious, Miller. You’re in pain over this shit. Yet she’s right in front of you. She’s here, with that baby. You know how it goes with old men. Some of them are *s. Mine was. Yours too. I’d give anything to have a guy like you in my life back then.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious.”

“And then someday I have to look that kid in the eyes and tell him I killed his father.”

Blaine sighed. “Yeah, that one is going to be tough. I won’t lie.”

Miller opened his mouth but caught something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw the two women were kissing. They were really going at it.

“You better get rolling,” Miller whispered. “They started without you.”

Blaine turned his head and then jumped up. “Ah, f*ck. They better not finish without me.”

He scrambled over the table and took charge.

Miller laughed and then looked at his pinky again. He took the ring off and stuck it in his pocket. He stood and walked to the side door to the clubhouse. When he opened it, a woman stood there holding two beers.

“Hey,” she said.

“What?” Miller asked.

“Look, I don’t care what’s going on. Have a beer with me. Let me do whatever I need to do.”

Miller grabbed both bottles of beer. “Go get more beer. And if your * is wet, go take care of yourself.”

Miller moved by the woman and ended up in the clubhouse, but only for a few seconds. He then set his sights on the conference room. There he sat alone and in the dark. The two beers did nothing so he went for a bottle of whiskey. Drinking himself drunk, Miller could only think. About Ella. About Beck. About Jerry. Past to present. Hell, even thinking about the future. That was scary because the only certain thing for the future was death. That much Miller believed, and that much the rest of the MC held close to their chests.

Finally, Miller stood and stumbled to the right. He caught himself against the wall and worked his way forward to the door. Ripping it open, he flew forward out and didn’t stop until he hit the bar. There was music. Voices. Laughing. Someone saying his name. Waving a hand, Miller kept going. Down the hallway and to his room. The f*cking cot was still on the f*cking floor.