Murphy(56)

Her man lay on the bed beside her, holding her tightly in his arms. She let go of all the years and the pain inside her.

“You were going to pick me, weren’t you?” she asked, thinking about that moment when he’d been given the ultimatum.

“Yes.”

“I’m so pleased you didn’t. I couldn’t have handled their deaths, Murphy. Thank you for not picking me.”

“I can’t live without you, Tate. The club and all that shit I can. You, I can’t get a new you. From the time when you were sixteen and adorable to your tempting self at eighteen, I was hooked on you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I will always choose you.”

“That’s what you did when you went to The Lions, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“You deserve a town to be safe. I did everything for you.”

He rubbed her stomach, caressing an arm down her body.

“I don’t know how we’re all going to handle this,” Tate said.

“They’re thinking of a joint funeral for all the lives lost. Kate, Fern, and Mikey.”

Tate sobbed at the mention of the older man. “He deserved so much better.”

“I know.”

Murphy held her until the sobbing stopped. He leaned down and kissed her head.

“Marry me,” he said, producing a ring in front of her.

“What?” she asked, looking at the ring and then at him.

“I know it’s not romantic. I shot you and now I’m asking for you to marry me, but I want you, Tate. Marry me.”

“I’ve been a total bitch to you. I blamed you for everything, and it wasn’t your fault at all.” She shook her head, shocked by his proposal.

“I don’t care. You can make it up to me.”

“How?” she asked, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

“Well, I’ve got some kinky desires for us to play out. Also, you can be sweet to me when no one else is watching. Marry me, Tate. I don’t give a fuck about anything else.”

“Yes,” she said, taking the ring from him and placing it on her finger. She admired the jewel on her ring finger. It was perfect.

Later that night, after Murphy left, Tiny was wheeled into her bedroom. “I didn’t want you to sleep alone,” he said, easing up onto her bed.

“Hey, Daddy,” she said, moving over for him to fit on the bed. She turned the volume down on the bed television so she could hear him.

“No man is ever going to be good enough for you. Murphy, he did what I’d want him to do,” Tiny said.

Looking up at him she saw tears in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’d have chosen you. Any man who’ll chose the club over you is not a man in my book. Murphy was going to choose you, and I think it’s only fair he gets you back.” Tiny lifted her hand in the air, staring at the engagement ring. “I gave him my blessing, and it’s time you stopped being a bitch.”

She chuckled. “I’ve already made a deal with him.”

“Good.”

“What are you going to do about Eva?” she asked, snuggling closer.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make it right.”

They were silent for several minutes, watching the television together.

“I’m sorry about Mikey, Dad.”

“Me too, pet, me, too.”





Chapter Thirteen



The funerals were the worst part of the aftermath of the drug shooting in Fort Wills. Murphy was surprised by the turn out of the people as they put Kate, Fern, and Mikey to rest. They were all members of the club, and that made every minute of that day hard. Throughout it all, Tate was by his side, holding his hand. The engagement band lay on her finger, making everything easier for him to bear.

The club was being rebuilt, and the truck had been tipped. The bodies from the drug dealers and the few remaining Lions were buried away far out of Fort Wills. Murphy got the satisfaction of digging the graves himself. He told Tate everything, never leaving anything out. They were currently living with Tiny and Eva, back at Tiny’s home. Murphy was looking for their own place, but nothing was close enough to the club.

Tate wanted to redesign his cabin. He wouldn’t let her. There were too many awful memories back at the cabin, and he didn’t want married life with Tate to start with them. After the funerals, morale was at an all-time low. Pictures were placed around the bar and the club of their fallen members.

Four weeks after the funeral, Tate finally broke the ice with everyone. All the members were sat at the breakfast table, including Sandy, when she clapped her hands gaining their attention.

“We’re all miserable, and we’ve lost some great men.” Her gaze went to the pictures on the wall. “But I think Mikey would want us to move on. Daddy, I want to get married inside the club,” she said.