Crash (Brazen Bulls MC #1)(102)
oOo
That night, Rad sat on the patio, drinking a beer. Ollie lay at his side, and Rad scratched absently at the dog’s ear.
The baby monitor sat on the table, its lights glowing green in time with Willa’s voice as she put their son to bed. The only thing that could have made him happier in this moment was if he were inside her—and he would be, just as soon as she got that hot little ass back down here. He’d f*ck her screaming right here on their patio. Give Mrs. Abrams next door a thrill.
Her little house was their little house now. He’d moved out of his crappy rental and pitched most of his belongings. His bikes and tools were in the garage, side by side with a little gym she had set up in there.
Nothing about her house had changed, except for the garage and his clothes and boots in her closet. He’d had very little in the way of possessions that mattered to him, and he liked Willa’s style, so he’d had no interest in ‘making his mark’ on this house. It was his because Willa was his, and that was all that mattered.
They weren’t married. Willa didn’t want it, and Rad knew by experience that a piece of paper didn’t mean shit between two people, for good or ill. Her folks were going crazy over it, however, even more since Zach’s birth. He’d fielded a few angry verbal attacks from Ellery Randall, wanting Rad to get Willa ‘in hand’ and make her do what was right.
Willa’s father was a good man. Rad liked him, and all Willa’s people, a lot. But they were crazy if they thought it was up to him what his old lady did. He’d learned—to get his way, he needed a good reason. He didn’t have one to get married.
Zach had his name, and Willa now had his ink. His club was in its usual groove. Rad had everything he wanted or needed.
The monitor got quiet. Rad heard the careful ratcheting sound that meant she was winding up Zach’s mobile and trying to be quiet about it, and then the light, high tones of a lullaby began to play. Zach was asleep, and she’d put him to bed. They probably had three, maybe four hours.
Rad finished his beer, picked up the monitor, and stood up. He’d meet her inside and take her to their bed, where he had some range of motion.
“Come, on, Ollie. Let’s call it a night. Daddy’s missed Momma.”
CLOSING NOTE
As might be clear to readers of other Freak Circle Press writers, all our MCs exist in the same world, more or less. Though we don’t (and couldn’t possibly) try to align all our timelines, and though our stories are not interdependent, we do refer to each others’ clubs and have small moments where our stories might cross over. Our collaborative project Postcards from Sturgis, a collection of connected stories we all wrote together (and which is available to read for free on our website at https://freakcirclepress.com/works/postcards-from-sturgis/) is the nexus of that shared world.
I bring this up because for the first time, the crossover from one independent series to another has been substantive and truly collaborative. The Volkov brotherhood that appears in this story, and will appear throughout the series, is an invention of fellow Freak Catherine Johnson (https://www.facebook.com/rittenkitten/), who is in the early stages of a planned Russian Mafia series: The Red Star Series.
Her series is set in the present day, so here, in this series set in the past, you see backstory for the Volkovs to come. Catherine has done me the honor of letting me borrow her characters and give their history life. As always, collaborating with her was great fun, and I’m thrilled that our characters can exist together.
Thanks, love! xoxo