Viper (Hell's Handlers MC 9)

“Sweetie, you know—”

“Yes,” she said as she tapped her temple with her forefinger. “I know that here.” She moved her hand down, rubbing it over the left side of her chest “But sometimes here…”

“Yeah.” Oh, how she wished there was something she could say to relieve Jazz of this burden. But there wasn’t. She’d said it all already. Time would heal Jazz’s wounds, along with the love of her two men, but chances were, part of her would always shoulder some feeling of responsibility. No matter how undeserved.

“Those boys of yours helping you process everything and reminding you, you aren’t to blame?”

“Always,” Jazz said. “Whether it’s just exhausting me each night until I’m too tired to think of anything else”—she winked, drawing a laugh from Cassie—“Or them holding me while I cry and reminding me I’m not responsible for others’ actions. Screw said I’m a gift to them from Viper.”

“Oh, sweetie, that’s so true. The man would do the same thing all over again if it meant saving you. If it meant giving you a chance to have what he had with me. Life, love, and happiness.”

“Man, look at us,” Jazz said with a watery laugh. “We’re a mess. We better get going. If we stand here much longer, we’ll drown.”

She took Jazz’s hand. “Yeah, let’s go. I’m ready to start the next phase of my life.”

There wasn’t a doubt in Cassie’s mind that Viper saved their Jazmine so she could find the kind of love he shared with Cassie.

An unconditional, once in a lifetime, never-ending, death-defying love.

The kind of love that was waiting for her among the stars.

EPILOGUE

1989 - TENNESSEE

Some women wanted a huge wedding in a fancy chapel with hundreds of guests, a princess ballgown, a six-tiered cake, and fucking lobster.

Not his Cassie.

From the moment her girls began questioning her on the wedding plans, Cassie had said the same thing again and again.

“I want it in the clearing behind the club house. No suites, no bridesmaid dresses. And I want barbecue. We live in Tennessee for crying out loud. We need to have barbecue,” she’d said each and every time she’d been asked.

Cindy, for one, was less than impressed with the plans. She’d tried to talk Cassie into something a little more formal. Renting a hall, getting married in a church, a dress that cost four digits.

His woman would have none of it.

And when he’d asked if those were the plans she really wanted or if she’d picked it because she thought it’s what he would want…well, she about bit his head off.

“You trying to say I don’t know my own mind?” she’d asked, hip jutting to the side and eyes spitting fire.

He’d lifted his hands in surrender as he’d stepped closer to her. “No, ma’am. I’d never suggest something so stupid.” When he’d reached her, he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. His erection had settled against her stomach and her eyes had narrowed farther.

So, sue him, Cassie hopping mad got him hard.

He hadn’t been worried. He knew just how to get his woman to soften in his arms. He’d kissed her neck, right where it began to ease into her shoulder. Cassie shuddered and tilted her head.

Putty in his hands.

He’d done it again and again until she’d been panting and rubbing all against him.

“I just want to make sure you get what you need to have the perfect fucking wedding,” he’d said as he’d dragged his tongue up and down her throat.

“A-all I need is you. I could get married in a van and it’d be perfect.”

The sincerity in her voice had him puffing his chest out like damn Tarzan. Knowing his woman loved him so much made him feel like a god. He pulled back and kissed her mouth until she whimpered. “Love you.”

“You’d better,” she’d whispered with a smile. “We’re not fancy people, Viper. We like hanging out at the clubhouse with our family. We like loud, raucous parties with bikers, booze, and, pounding music. We like jeans and leather.” Then she’d shrugged. “I want a wedding that represents us.”

And that’s when it made sense. Cassie had grown up in a huge house with every material possession imaginable. Fancy parties had been a weekly occurrence. Weddings, well, it wasn’t uncommon for people in her family’s social circle to spend well into the tens of thousands on the blessed events. Cassie had removed herself from that life. Money didn’t make her family happy, she always said. In fact, it did quite the opposite, driving them apart and creating greed and misery. She wouldn’t want a wedding reminiscent of her old life. She wanted simple, fun, and what they loved.

So that’s what she got.

Viper smoothed his hands down the front of his cut. A pair of new black jeans, a white button-up, and new boots were as fancy as he’d gotten for the day. Again, Cassie’s insistence. She wanted him there with her on the altar, not, “some dude I don’t recognize in a suit.”