Home>>read The Cut free online

The Cut(37)

By:Carol Lynne


Stake wouldn't jump the guy, knowing that the Kings had a tentative  alliance with the Scorpions, but he wasn't about to let the fucker make  Santana uncomfortable. "You're a little close to my woman," he told the  Scorpion.

"Don't see a ring or a vest on her," the Scorpion shot back. He was big,  but not as big as Stake. The patch on his cut said his name was Top.

Stake thought of the ring he'd been waiting to give Santana when the  time was right. He fully admitted to himself that he was nervous as fuck  about proposing. It wasn't being married that scared him, but that  goddamn proposal. He'd listened to enough old ladies to know they liked  to compare stories on how their men asked the big question, and so far,  Stake hadn't come up with shit.

"Well, I'm telling ya, she's mine. So now you know," Stake replied, wrapping an arm around Santana's waist.

Top grinned at Santana. "Is that the truth?"

She nodded. "I've already told you I was with someone."

Top tried to crowd Santana again, but Stake slammed his palm against the  man's chest. "Back the fuck off," Stake said, quiet enough that the  milling children didn't overhear.

"You need to educate your bitch," Top said. "Because being with someone and being a brother's woman are two different things."

Stake saw red. Even knowing that bitch was a common name for biker  babes, he had never, and would never, call Santana that. Before he could  control himself, he landed a punch to Top's jaw.

His head snapped back, but instead of going down, he retaliated with a  punch of his own. Unfortunately for everyone involved, his fist grazed  Santana's cheekbone before connecting with Stake's mouth.

Stake heard Santana's cry of pain and charged the motherfucker who'd  dared lay a hand on her. He tackled Top to the ground, heedless of the  crowd around them, and went fucking nuts. The two were in an all-out  brawl by the time Gypsy, Tiny and Mojo stepped in to pull them apart.

"Not here," Gypsy growled in Stake's face.

Stake straightened his cut and swiped the back of his hand across his bloody lip. "He hit Santana."

Gypsy released Stake immediately, but Mojo was there to take his place.  "I'm fine," Stake told Mojo, trying to shake the brother off. He held up  his hands in surrender. Once he was confident that Tiny had control of  Top, Stake turned to find Gypsy examining a small cut on Santana's  cheek.

"Rain," Gypsy all but gasped at the sight of the pretty woman. He composed himself quickly. "Do you have a cooler back there?"

She nodded and wrapped several cubes of ice into the bandana Gypsy handed her. "Will she be okay?"

"I'm fine," Santana said, grimacing as Gypsy touched the makeshift cold pack to her cheek.

"I've got it." Stake had come a long way in admitting that Gypsy was his  half-brother, thanks to Santana, but that didn't mean he was any less  jealous of the bastard.

Gypsy stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Sorry about that," he told the woman he'd called Rain.

"It's good to see you again, Gypsy, but don't apologize. The asshole deserved that and more."         

     



 

Santana took the ice pack out of Stake's hand and moved it to his lip. "You're hurt," she said.

"I've had worse." Stake glanced over his shoulder, looking for that  sonofabitch again so he could fucking kill him. He spotted Tiny talking  to another Scorpion and wondered where the hell Top went. Returning his  attention to Santana, he redirected the cold pack back to her cheek. "I  don't think it needs stitches, but we should find a drug store and pick  up some butterfly bandages."

"I'm fine. Really," she repeated.

He placed his palm against her still-flat stomach. "The baby okay?"

With a smile, Santana pulled Stake's head down to whisper in his ear.  "If this baby can survive the way you fuck, he can surely survive this."

"She," Stake corrected. He brushed her hair away from her face. The last  thing he'd wanted was for her to experience violence in their new  hometown, and the more he thought about it, the madder he became. "Let's  get outta here."

"No," she refused. She still had the two necklaces clutched in her hand.  "I'm buying one of these, then I'm going to continue to shop my way  down this street. I was run out of one town, and I won't let that happen  again." She held up the two necklaces. "Now, which one of these do you  like best?"

Stake crossed his arms over his chest as adrenaline continued to pump  through his body. "Get 'em both." He wasn't happy, but it wasn't her  fault, and he be damned if he'd let his foul mood ruin her day.

Santana handed the necklaces to the woman. "I guess I'll take both of these."



Santana collapsed on the blanket beside Stake. "I'm officially worn  out." The evening was winding down as the sound of live music filtered  through the air, creating the perfect end to an incredible day.

He rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand. Looking down at  her, he touched his fingertip to the bandaged cut on cheek. "It's  bruising."

Staring up at him, she shook her head. He'd babied her all afternoon for  the small cut when his injuries were so much worse. "I'm fine. How many  times do I have to tell you that?"

"I guess until I believe it," he replied. He leaned down and kissed the  injury. "I keep promising that I'll never again let someone hurt you,  and then I fail to keep you safe."

"Stop," she said, covering his lips with her hand. She'd kept so many of  her feelings bottled up, too afraid to make a fool of herself by  speaking them aloud, but as she stared into those amber eyes that she'd  always loved, she got the feeling he still didn't understand the way she  felt.

"When I was a child, I loved you as that funny man who gave me piggy  back rides and made me laugh. When I became a teenager, I loved you  because you were the only man who showed me kindness and cleaned me up  after Dad took his fist or his belt to me."

Stake closed his eyes, obviously upset by the memories of that period in  her life. "And then I left you," he whispered, his voice thick with  emotion.

She'd given a lot of thought to the period in her life when she'd felt  abandoned, and had realized a few things. "I know you feel guilty about  that, but I really need you to move beyond it because without those  years spent on my own, I'm not sure what kind of person I'd be. They say  that our pasts make us who we are, and for some unbelievable reason,  I've grown into the kind of person a man as wonderful as you can fall in  love with. Those years on my own made me stronger, but more  importantly, they gave me an appreciation for the life you've shown me  since the attack. Each time you make waffles for me or reach for my hand  when you're asleep, I thank God that He brought you into my life. I  don't need you to wrap me up and keep me safe from the outside world. I  need you to be there for me when the outside world lets me down. There's  a huge difference in the two, and I need you to understand that."

Stake leaned down and rested his forehead against Santana's. "I hear  you, but I'll still do everything I can to protect you. I'd give my life  for yours in a heartbeat because without you, I wouldn't want to live  another day."

She wanted to argue, but how could she? He'd always been her protector.  Asking him to stop now would be the same as telling him he was no longer  needed. "I just want you to love me and continue to make waffles at  least once a week."

He dug into his pocket and set a small opened black leather box on her  stomach. "I've been trying for days to think of a way to propose to you.  In my mind, it needed to be over the top in order to be special, but  you've made me realize it's not about the process, it's about the  outcome. Would you, Santana Elizabeth Rogers, make me the luckiest man  in the world and marry me?"         

     



 

Santana stared at the band of diamonds. She couldn't imagine a better  proposal, and it had nothing to do with the engagement ring. For a brief  moment, she considered telling him to take it back and get something  more practical, but his pride in the band he'd chosen was written in his  expression. Love for Stake, the ring and the promise he was asking her  to make, filled her with joy. "Of course I'll marry you," she said,  leaning down for another kiss.





Epilogue





Stake finished helping Tiny set up the chairs and shook his head. The  warm, autumn day would be perfect for a wedding. He'd pushed to have the  ceremony at the clubhouse because the weather in Arkansas was often  unpredictable, but Santana had argued that they'd waited too long for  their happily ever after to worry about things they had no control over.  He'd wanted to point out that having the wedding inside was something  they could control, but he'd quickly discovered it was best not to argue  with a pregnant woman.