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Patriot grinned at Jaime wickedly, but when his gaze landed on Cilla, the smile slipped right off his face.
God, she couldn’t watch this—and fuck Patriot and Stephie for thinking it was okay to trick her into coming. Shooting to her feet, she nearly tumbled right off the picnic bench in her rush to stand. Once she was on her feet, she was stopped by a massive, callused hand on her elbow.
Locust was there, and beside him Nadia was staring at him, confusion on her face.
Unable to stop herself from looking at Patriot, Cilla caught his gaze once more. She could see his shoulders rise in a deep inhale, then he swallowed and stepped forward, every eye in the clearing on him.
With a voice loud enough to wake the dead, Patriot announced, “Tonight, I am claiming my woman.”
Cheers rose up around them, celebrating Patriot’s news, and drowning out the agonized whimper that spilled from Cilla’s lips.
From the devastation on Cilla’s beautiful face, Patriot knew that she didn’t understand what was going on. Of course, she didn’t, she had no idea what he had been doing over the last several days, all the plans he was carefully drawing, all the pieces he was moving, and all the self-recriminations he was swallowing—because tonight had to go perfectly if he wanted Cilla to be his forever.
The property kutte was heavy in his grip, and he could see Cilla staring at it, her face pale. She knew what it was; Stephie was wearing her kutte from Horde and, no doubt, Stephie had explained what it was…what it meant. So Cilla’s pale face, her wide sorrowful eyes told him that she knew what the kutte meant…but she didn’t know that it was hers, despite the scene Jaime was making.
But Jaime thinking the kutte was hers wasn’t a surprise. Not only was that his intention, but it also just proved how arrogant and delusional Jaime really was. She saw her brother, hugged him, talked to him—she had to have some idea of what Stallion and he had talked about. She wasn’t that much of an idiot, even though her plans to trick Patriot and get his name patch on her back were ridiculous, they could have worked—if Patriot had any romantic feelings for her at all. But the only thing he’d felt for Jaime before this mess was duty—because of her brother. And now, the only thing he felt for her was anger and disgust.
Tonight, Jaime’s plan would come to light, she’d get what she deserved, and Cilla would get a bit of pay back against the women who’d hurt her.
Jaime, grinning like the cat who stole the cream, sauntered up to him and placed a hand on his chest.
“I just knew tonight would be the night—I saw the kutte last night, and I knew today you would make the right decision,” Jaime cooed, leaning in as if to kiss him. He pulled back and she scowled at him.
“You saw the kutte? Last night?” Jaime nodded and Patriot cursed. Jaime saw the kutte, but obviously didn’t see all of it, but that didn’t stop her from flapping her lips to the other club women and Cilla. No wonder Cilla was staring at the kutte like it was a decapitated head. And that meant that Cilla knew Jaime had been at his place last night, but it had nothing to do with fucking Jaime, and everything to do with keeping her busy, contained, and away from her house where evidence of her crimes against the club could be hidden.
While Locust was searching her place, Patriot was fending off Jaime’s hands and acting like he enjoyed watching whatever the fuck Bravo! was.
Once he’d gotten the text from Locust that the coast was clear, he’d pushed Jaime right out the fucking door, saluted Tony Dos, who was on Jaime babysitting duty, and slammed the door behind them.
Flicking his gaze to Stallion who took up a stance behind his sister, then to Tornado who was in place behind Sasha, he smiled when both men nodded.
It was time to get shit done.
“Gather ‘round, brothers,” Patriot shouted into the clearing, the echo of his voice bounding off the tree line and back. Cilla jerked, her eyes wide. He could see the tears gathering, even as she curled into herself, drawing her shoulders down, and wrapping her arms around herself as if to hide away.
But he could see her, every inch of her, and she looked fucking amazing. Stephie had done a great job picking out Cilla’s outfit, then again, when he’d come clean to Stephie and explained what he wanted tonight, Stephie had demanded the chance to dress Cilla up. She also demanded that Patriot not “fuck up” because Cilla deserved happiness.
Now, to set things in motion.
As a single tear spilled over Cilla’s cheek, Patriot grit his teeth, hating himself ever more in that moment.
Raising the kutte in the air, he grinned. “Tonight, brothers, I will finally lay claim to my one and only, my woman, my ol’ lady, the woman I want to spend the rest of my sinful days loving.”
Jaime giggled, dancing in place.
God, the fucking woman was out of her fucking mind.
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at her, he continued. “My woman…fuck,” he swallowed the mass of emotions lodged in his throat. “My woman is a fucking queen. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, she’s smart as hell, funny, sweet, and she makes the best cookies I’ve ever tasted in my life.”
At that, Jaime stopped dancing, her gaze landed on him and in their depths was confusion…then a slow-moving realization. Cilla, standing toward the back with Locust behind her, was staring, her stunning eyes like two doll’s eyes—big, glossy, and filled with disbelief.
He smirked. She was getting it….
“Jaime, you said you saw the kutte, probably told everywhere here about it, yeah?”
Sasha and Tasha both leered, thinking they knew something and wanting to act superior.
“Yeah, she sure as fuck did,” Stephie called out from where she was standing beside Horde, who was standing beside a quiet yet intense Frost. Frost knew everything, and he agreed with Patriot’s plan to reveal Jaime’s betrayal to the club in front of the club, her brother, and the woman she’d wronged.
