The music started, and they watched as three bridesmaids walked down the aisle on the arm of groomsmen. Like Stake, every man in the bridal party, except the best man, were dressed in white shirts, black jeans and their cuts. She assumed the best man must be Mad Dog's brother.
When the wedding march began, everyone got to their feet. Santana couldn't see a damn thing, but she supposed it didn't matter since she'd never met the bride anyway. However, she did have an incredible view of Stake's ass, which more than made up for it.
Stake parked in the lot in front of the clubhouse. "Don't flirt with Tiny in front of other people."
Santana rolled her eyes. "It's not me, it's him. I think he's just trying to piss you off."
"I know he's full of shit, but everyone else doesn't." He got out of the truck and walked around to the passenger door. He didn't give a fuck what people thought of him, but Santana had already had a rough go of it, and the last thing she needed was to overhear the typical bullshit gossip. He opened Santana's door. "And, don't put up with any of Rachel's shit tonight, especially because I'm sure she'll be drinking."
"I know, I already had to stare her down in church." She cracked her knuckles before pounding one fist against the palm of her other hand. "I'm ready, coach."
He couldn't help but smile. Goddamn, she made him smile more than anyone ever had. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deep as he lifted her from the pickup. Before releasing her, he ground his cock against her. "I haven't seen you drunk before. You get horny?"
She shrugged. "I've never been drunk before, so I have no idea." She tapped her finger against her chin. "But, it seems I'm always in the mood when I'm around you, so I'm going to guess the answer will be yes."
Fucking at any time was great, but there was something about a hard, drunk fuck that couldn't be beat in his opinion. It was a good thing he'd made her leave the underwear at home. Shit. Just the thought of fucking her hard had all his blood flowing from his brain to his dick. "Drink all you want, but not too much that you can't wrap your legs around me later."
A car pulled up beside them, prompting him to release her. He opened the tailgate and lifted the cooler. "Can you make it without holding onto me?"
"I'll try." She started across the parking lot with Stake close behind her.
"Damn your ass looks good in that dress," he noted.
She grinned over her shoulder and attempted to give her sweet ass an exaggerated wiggle, but the movement caused her to lose her footing on the gravel. Stake dropped the cooler and caught her before she tumbled to the ground.
Laughing, he left the cooler where it was and carried her the rest of the way across the parking lot. "Will you be safe here until I get back?"
Her cheeks flushed, she nodded without looking at him.
"Hey." He tilted her chin up. "You're fine. I like it when you let loose with me."
"I almost made a fool of myself in front of everyone," she mumbled.
"So? Other than me and Tiny, who the fuck here do you give a shit about?" He'd never understand why women where always so concerned about what other people thought.
Sadness filled her beautiful eyes.
Fuck. He hadn't meant to sound so pissed off. It was a flaw he had to really work on with her, not because she'd asked him to, but because she'd had enough verbal abuse in her life without him adding to it.
"It's not that I care about anyone else specifically, but I've had a lifetime of being humiliated around these people. I guess I want to show them I'm different now," she explained.
Tiny passed by with Stake's wayward cooler in his hands. "You dropped this."
"Thanks. Take it over with the others, would you?" Stake asked.
Tiny looked between Santana and Stake before nodding. "Sure."
Stake led Santana over to stand in a shaded spot on the side of the building. He put his back to the clubhouse and pulled her against his chest, facing outward. "See that blonde over there talking to Cecil?"
"Yes."
"He's fucking her, and she's young enough to be his granddaughter. My aunt doesn't know, but everyone else here does, including her best friend." He scanned the crowd again. "Do you know Iggy?"
"Kind of."
"Well, Iggy's some kind of sick sex freak who is hard all the time but refuses to fuck because he thinks it's gross. Instead, he likes to get head while sitting in the clubhouse for anyone to see."
"That is gross. Why're you telling me this?" she asked.
"Because I'm trying to make you understand that everyone here has problems that they would probably consider humiliating if they knew everyone else knew. The fact that Ellie was a drunk and Smash raised his hand to you more than he ever should have, isn't something for you to worry about. First of all, that's Smash and Ellie's shame, not yours, and secondly, it was a long time ago. Even if it wasn't, these people aren't worth worrying about. We'll be gone in another two weeks, and with luck, you'll never see most of them again." He spotted his mom walking across the lawn toward them. "Christ. Here comes my mom. Don't pay attention to anything she has to say."
"I wondered where the two of you were." Stake's mom stopped in front of them and eyed Santana warily. "It's nice to see you again," she told Santana.
"You remember my mom, Peggy, don't you?" Stake asked, his lips brushing Santana's ear.
"Yes. How've you been?" Santana asked.
"Well, I'd be better if I could get my son to come by and change my oil like I've asked him to do for the last month." She propped her hands on her hips and stared daggers at Stake.
"I told you when you asked that you needed to take it into town and have it done, or have that worthless piece of shit living with you do it," Stake argued. He'd spent more than half of his life trying to please his mom, but by the time he'd reached his twenties, he'd come to the conclusion that nothing would be enough for her. Other than a few times a year, he didn't even bother going by the house he'd grown up in because he never knew who he was going to find shacked up with his mom.
"Jerry has a bad back," she argued right back. "I told you that."
"I don't give a fuck. I'm not changing your damn oil, so stop asking, and take care of it yourself."
Peggy turned her attention to Santana. "Do you see how poorly my worthless son treats me?"
Santana straightened and squared her shoulders. "From what I understand, you deserve it," she shot back.
Pride and something else, he couldn't put a finger on, filled him. Had Santana just stuck up for him against his mom? Everyone in the club knew Peggy Wills as Queen Bitch. Because of her close relationship to Cecil, his mom had always felt she could do or say anything she wanted without reproach, and she'd gotten away with it for the most part until two seconds earlier.
"Watch yourself, sweetheart," Peggy sneered.
Santana stepped out of Stake's embrace, putting herself nose to nose with Peggy. "I could say the same to you. I haven't forgotten the way you laughed when you saw Smash take a willow branch to me at the Easter picnic."
"You were a brat," Peggy said in an attempt to excuse her actions.
"He beat me until I was fucking bloody!" Santana screamed, drawing attention.
As much as he wanted Santana to get her anger out, he stepped between the two women, knowing she'd only feel worse if she realized others were listening. "That's enough," he told his mom. "Go on back to your beer and Jerry, and leave us the fuck alone."
Peggy shook her head. "Trash. Just like her parents."
Stake wrapped his hand around his mother's throat. "Give me a fucking reason to snap your neck," he warned.
Eye wide with shock, his mom sputtered, "Stake? What has she done to you?"
Stake squeezed, making his hold increasingly uncomfortable but not tight enough to really hurt her. "She's taught me how it feels to be loved," he ground out between clenched jaws. "And I will kill you if you so much as look in her direction. You got me, bitch?"
"What the hell's going on over here?" Cecil demanded.
Stake released his grip on his mom's throat, but didn't back away. "Stay out of it, Prez. This is between me and Mom."
"What the fuck's wrong with you, boy?" Cecil growled. "That's your mother."
"We both know she's never been a mother to me, so there's no way in hell I'm gonna stand by and let her hurl insults at Santana." He stared at Cecil, ready to take the old man on if he needed. "Take your sister, and tell her to either get the hell out of here or stay away from me and Santana until we can move the fuck out of this town."
"Stake," Santana said, putting her hand on his arm. "Let's just go."