The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “Okay,” she says before turning to Jack. “Thank you.”

  “Ah, fuck,” he mutters as she climbs the rest of the stairs. I wait for her to close the front door before I turn my gaze back to Jack.

  “You ever notice the wind?” he asks, staring up at the pitch-black sky. “It blows angry and hard right before the shit rolls through these streets. It’s been fucking ferocious tonight,” he adds, turning his eyes back to mine. “Thought it was just my maker playing me for a bitch then you show up looking like you do and Ally looking at me like I’m some mythical God that’s going to answer her prayers.”

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” I say, shoving my hands inside my pockets.

  “I gathered as much,” he grunts, leaning his back against the cement steps.

  “Does the name Dante West mean anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “What about the Bastards of Mayhem?”

  “What the fuck is this, twenty questions? Spit it out, Cowboy,” he sneers impatiently.

  “My father, Dante West, was the president of the Arlington chapter of the Bastards of Mayhem MC,” I reveal, letting the truth settle over the both of us. Waiting for me to elaborate, Jack stares at me blankly. “The MC raised me and it was decided at an early age that when my father hung up his cut I would follow in my father’s footsteps. Then he died and I wasn’t prepared. I was distraught over his death and when it came time to elect a president, the club voted his vice president as our commander.”

  “Why am I just hearing about this?” Jack interrupts, lifting his index fingers to his temples. “When Wolf brought you here he said you were a nomad.”

  “I was,” I tell him. “After King took my father’s position he started running the club into the ground. All my father’s hard work, his values, his beliefs…they were all torched and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. So I recklessly took his woman as revenge.”

  “You fucked your president’s old lady?”

  “It seemed like the perfect revenge back then.”

  “Your old man is probably rolling in his grave,” Jack hisses.

  “You’re probably right,” I agree. “Still, Chelsea wasn’t supposed to be more than a quick fuck. Then I got hooked on her, but when the woman you’re into cares more about drugs than she does you, you’re no winner. My plan fell to shit and I didn’t even care about King finding out anymore or even about my revenge for the club. I just wanted her.”

  “You fell in love with her,” Jack accuses.

  “I thought so,” I say thoughtfully. “King wound up finding out and he killed her and used my gun to do it.”

  “Then why are you still standing?”

  “Because my trigger finger is quicker.”

  “Whoa, back the fuck up. You’re telling me you stole your president’s old lady and then fucking killed him?”

  “Yeah,” I nod. “That’s right.”

  I don’t know what’s worse, the silence or the way he stares right through me.

  “Then what happened?”

  “I ran.”

  “And you’ve been running ever since?”

  “Yes,” I admit.

  “Why are you telling me this now? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this when I handed you your patch and gave you a seat at my table?”

  “It was never my intention to stay in one place,” I defend. “I made my way to Kansas, to the Satan’s Knights down there and the president had beef with King, he gave me my colors and set me free. He warned me not to take root anywhere.”

  “Yet, here you are.”

  “Here I am, in a place I was proud to call my home, in front of a man I was equally proud to take my orders from.”

  Leaning forward, he narrows his eyes at me before glancing over his shoulder.

  “What am I missing, Cowboy,” he questions, bringing his attention back to me. “Why is that girl in my house? Why are you standing in front of me in the middle of the night sharing your sorry story?”

  My eyes dart toward the front door before I slip my cut from my shoulders and meet Jack’s gaze. Draping it over my forearm, I trace the reaper with my fingers. When I put that reaper on my back, I never thought I’d come this far. I never thought I’d find true brothers or one girl who made me want to change the course of my life.

  When I put that reaper on my back I never expected to find my heart.

  Now, here I am handing it over to the man who forced me into finding it.

  “Put your cut back on,” he demands.

  “I can’t,” I tell him, extending it to him. “They found me, Jack. It’s over.”

  “I’m losing my patience, boy,” he growls, ignoring my vest.

  “Someone slipped a photograph under my hotel door. I was in the bathroom and Ally found it. It was a picture of Chelsea. Dead.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, swiping a hand down his face.

  “Only her name isn’t Chelsea,” I add, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Ally recognized her, just like she said she would.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asks, dropping his hand from his face. Dread washes over him and I nod when I see realization shine through those dark eyes of his.

  “She was the girl in the warehouse with Ally, the one that disappeared.”

  “Are we sure it’s the same girl?”

  “I know Chelsea, and I was there when she was killed. That image burns my memory every single day. And Ally knows Sara, they are one and the same.”

  “And now you’re telling me the Bastards of Mayhem put that photograph under your door.” He shakes his head. “Why not just kill you?”

  “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe they want to play with me, make me sweat like I’ve made them sweat.”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t give you a chance to get away.”

  “Whatever the case may be, they’ve been watching me and they’ve been watching Ally.”

  “How did the girl end up in Arlington?”

  “What?”

  “Chelsea, Sara, whatever the fuck you want to call her. How did she end up in Texas with you?”

  “I have no idea. I told you, she was King’s girl.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” he mutters. “Was she around King when your old man was still around?”

  “I don’t remember. I wasn’t keeping tabs on King back then. I didn’t pay attention until he started fucking with my father’s legacy.”

  “Well it’s important because Yankovich had to sell that girl to someone. Now, either he sold her to your old man or he sold her to King.”

  “My father wouldn’t have done that, Jack. My father was a good man,” I bark, shoving the vest at him once more. This time I let it go and it falls on the steps between us. “I didn’t come here to figure out the mystery with you. I don’t have time for that.”

  Silently, he eyes the leather.

  “That’s your job,” I tell him hoarsely. “It’s your job to make sense of Yankovich, and my God, I pray you do. I pray you get this cocksucker once and for all.”

  “We will.”

  “There’s no we. I won’t let my mistakes take down this club, and more importantly, I won’t let anyone hurt Ally. I know what’s supposed to happen here. I mislead my brothers, I put my club in a situation they don’t need right now and I lied to you. By right you should put a bullet in my skull,” I pause, drawing in a wrangled breath. “I’m sparing us both the agony of that.”

  I pause, driving my fingers through my hair as I lift my gaze to the door again.

  “She’s your responsibility now,” I whisper. “Please, keep her safe,” I say, slicing my eyes back to him. “She trusts you, Jack. She respects you. Don’t fail her.”

  “You’re the one failing her.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then why are you doing it?”

  “There’s no way out,” I argue.

  “Let me think, goddamn it,” he roa
rs. “You just dumped all this shit on me,” he adds. “You and her stay here tonight, tomorrow we’ll call church and we’ll figure it out.”

  “You can’t save everyone, Jack. As much as you want to, you can’t. The sooner you acknowledge that, the better off you’ll be.”

  “It’s not about saving people, son, it’s about keeping your family together,” he replies. “It’s keeping your circle tight and the people in it safe.”

  “You’re a good man, Parrish,” I tell him. “A helluva good man,” I say, laying a hand on his shoulder as I climb the stairs. “Just give me a minute to say goodbye to her.”

  “Deuce, think about what you’re doing.”

  “I have.”

  “You’re throwing away your heart.”

  “I’m saving it.”

  “No, you did that already,” he corrects as I reach the landing. “Now you’re breaking it.”

  He’s right.

  I am breaking my heart and hers too.

  But a broken heart will still beat.

  A dead one won’t.

  -Forty-one-

  ALLY

  Scared and left to wonder what was going to happen next, I sat alone in Jack’s living room, replaying the story of my life. Like a classic movie, my past flashed in muted tones of black and white; the kidnapping, the torture, the girls, Sara. She wasn’t really Sara, or was she? I still don’t know.

  I was still processing the irony of it all. I was still trying to process that the one girl I felt a kinship to somehow, was also the woman Deuce loved. I don’t know why it was such a hard pill to swallow, why it stung so deeply. As I sit here in the dark, I realize the thing that bothers me the most isn’t that he loved her but that she got more time with him. It’s selfish. It’s ugly. But it’s true.

  I’m jealous of a dead girl.

  How’s that for kinship?

  Since she disappeared from the warehouse, I thought about what might have happened to her and now I know. I’m actually upset that she got Deuce when all I got was Rush. What kind of person does that make me?

  I think what makes it worse is even when he told me the truth and explained that Sara was murdered, all I felt was fear. Not for myself. Not for Deuce. I feared for us. I feared this was going to extinguish our fire, and that was as scary as being thrown into the back of a van.

  Maybe it’s because I’m learning to overcome my demons. Instead of holding onto the past, I’m slowly letting it slip through my fingers. I’m allowing myself to live. To dream. And I can’t imagine doing any of that without Deuce. I can’t imagine riding this crazy thing we call life without him. I can live without him. I’m strong enough to do that but I don’t want to. It’s amazing when you’re not dependent on someone, how much you feel for them. It’s not about what they can do for you, it’s just about them. It’s about feeling them, loving them and just being together because there is no place in the world you’d rather be.

  It’s knowing you chose that person over everyone—danger and death be damned.

  It’s riding side by side until the end.

  The door finally opens, causing me to jump to my feet and turn to Deuce. My heart hammers against my chest as I stare at him. I never expected to feel anything other than pain, but when I look at him all I feel is hope. Hope and love.

  So much love.

  He closes the front door gently, bracing one hand on it before he lifts his eyes to me.

  “What did he say?” I ask exasperatedly as I rush toward him. “Tell me the plan,” I add as he drops his hand from the door and stands tall.

  “C’mere,” he rasps, holding out his hand.

  The urgency from before is gone and his voice sounds deflated. It’s almost as if his spirit has been taken from him, something I can recognize since I lived without a spirit of my own for so long.

  “No,” I reply defiantly, taking a step backward.

  “Ally,” he whispers. “Baby, don’t make this harder than it has to be. I don’t want your last memory of me to be a rotten one.”

  “Then don’t make it that way,” I spit angrily as I ball my trembling hands into fists. “What did Jack say? If he won’t help then we’ll just figure it out ourselves,” I argue.

  “It’s time to say goodbye, Ally.”

  “Then let’s say goodbye. Let’s say goodbye to this town. It’ll be like an adventure. I haven’t had many of those,” I say, stepping forward. As the words leave my lips, I stare at him and see nothing but regret.

  “You just got your life back,” he says. “I’m not going to be the one who takes it from you, darlin’. I’m a selfish man, but I ain’t that selfish. Think about everything you can do now. Think about all you’ve got. Your brother is back in your life, Celeste too and that little girl, your niece. Before you know it there will be another little one around and you’ll be their favorite aunt. You don’t want to miss that, Ally. Trust me, there is so much more out there for you. You’ll get your adventures. Some man is going to come into your life and he’s going to take you on the adventure of your life. He’s going to love you hard, so fucking hard.”

  “Stop it,” I cry, reaching for him. The leather vest he was wearing on the way here is now gone and I grab the cotton of his shirt. “I don’t want adventures if they’re not with you. Don’t you get it, Deuce? I want you. You’re right, I’ve been given a second chance. I’ve been given the chance to dream and the only person I want to do that with is you.”

  “Dream big, baby. Dream for the both of us,” he whispers.

  “No!”

  Bending his knees to make us eye level, he pulls my hands away from his shirt and takes a hold of my face.

  “What happened to ride or die? What happened to feeling fire and never wanting to escape?” I sob. “What happened to letting me make my own decisions?”

  “I meant all of that,” he defends. “I want you to make your own decisions but you can’t make decisions for yourself if you’re dead.”

  He pauses, leaning his forehead against mine.

  “You don’t think this is killing me right now? Ally, a part of me wishes they would have caught me before I ever met you, that way I wouldn’t know what I’m losing. Then the other part of me is happy to have had a chance to have to. There was nothing more beautiful than watching you come into your own. I’m damn proud to have been a part of that and even prouder to be the man who got to love that side of you first. I’ll always be your first, Ally, and you’ll always be my last. Ain’t nothing going to change that.”

  “You love me?”

  “Like wildfire.”

  “You can’t tell me you love me and then leave me.”

  “I just did,” he says, tilting my head back slightly. “I’ll never forget you,” he adds, breaking my heart even more. “I’ll die counting these freckles,” he says as he peppers kisses over the bridge of my nose.

  “Please,” I whimper. “It’s not supposed to end like this,” I stammer, pushing him away. “We’re not supposed to go down like this. Like Bonnie and Clyde, you and I are supposed to defeat the odds. We’re meant to stand side by side until they take us down because we’re one. We’re supposed to create fire and light up the whole damn world so no one ever forgets us.”

  “No one will forget you,” he says.

  “Not me, I’m talking about us. I’m talking about Caleb West and Alexandria Richardson.”

  “There’s no us, Ally. There’s just you,” he says.

  Then he drops his hands from my face and tilts his head slightly as he brushes his lips over mine.

  One final time.

  We don’t ride until we die.

  No one will bury us side by side.

  The world won’t remember us.

  We’re not Bonnie and Clyde.

  A love like ours has the power to die.

  -Forty-two-

  DEUCE

  Running never fazed me. When everything you love or thought you loved is taken from you, running almost seems like the perfect s
olution. It’s walking away that I never quite grasped. It’s walking away from your heart, the thing that makes life worth living—that hurts the most. It fucking kills. You try and do the right thing, you think your sacrifices will somehow benefit the people you love and then you’re riding to your death alone, wondering if you made the right decision.

  I wanted to believe every word Ally said. I wanted to believe we could fucking disappear somewhere.

  Just me and her.

  Me and my ride or die girl.

  I knew better though. I know no sin goes forgiven in this life. We all pay one way or another and Satan would love nothing more than to torment me. His perfect plan would be to give me Ally. He’d make me think we’re in the clear and then when we finally stop looking over our shoulders, when maybe we’ve settled down in one place with a couple of kids—that’s when he’d strike.

  Yeah, walking away, it might fucking kill me but it’ll save Ally.

  A slow death is never an easy one and while I ride to Jersey, I think about offing myself and cheating those motherfuckers out of their retribution. Not to mention, it’ll put me out of my misery sooner.

  My desperation fades to anger and I decide to fucking fight. I won’t win, but why lay down and die when I’m not laying down for the woman I love. I should’ve told her I loved her instead of insinuating I did. I should have said the words. I thought giving that truth would only hurt when I couldn’t deliver the actions behind the words.

  Anyone can say I love you, especially when they’re at the end of the line. It’s almost like saying I’m sorry when someone dies. It’s automatic and what you think should be said, but it doesn’t hold much merit. Love is only a word if you don’t get the chance to prove it, to live it, to breathe it.

  Ally deserved more than loving and leaving.

  She deserved fire.

  I should pray she finds it but the idea of anyone loving her like I do makes me sick. Thinking about some other guy standing in my place drives me to the point of no return. I wonder if that’s why Clyde Barrow never let Bonnie go. Sure, he didn’t think he was good for her but maybe he was too weak to let her go. Or maybe he learned how not to give a fuck. Either way Clyde was a lucky motherfucker.