by E. C. Land
“Hey Mom, how’s she doing?” I say, hugging her to me. Damn, I’ve missed this woman. Doesn’t matter she calls me every fuckin’ day. There’s nothing like being home.
“Travis, I swear to fuck, I love you boy, but I will not allow you to continue to cause any more hurt to that beautiful woman,” my mom says sternly at my question, giving me a look of frustration.
“Mom, don’t start on me about this right now,” I sigh, grabbing the beer the prospect placed on the bar next to me.
“Well, what should I start with, huh?” she throws back, placing her hands on her hips.
“Momma B, let the boy enjoy his beer in peace. He just got here, plus, he’s gonna need it,” my dad, Bear, says, pulling my mom into his arms. I don’t know what any of us would do without him when it comes to dealing with her. Everyone here either respects her or fears her.
“What do you mean I’m gonna need it? What’s goin’ on?” I asked, starting to become frustrated.
“Finish your beer and wait for Stoney, then we’ll talk.”
I just nod, downing the rest of my beer. It can’t be that bad, can it? With everything that has happened in the past year, anything is possible. What could be going on now? Only one thing comes to my mind, Cleo.
As I opened my mouth to speak, Stoney walks into the room with a grim look on his face. Damn it must be bad. His eyes meet mine giving me a nod in acknowledgment as he moves in my direction.
“Rage, it's good to see you. Let’s go in my office to talk,” Stoney says, walking past me.
I nod in agreement, moving to follow him.
“You want us with you, brother?” Hades asked.
“Naw, man, go get your dick sucked or something,” I say, slapping him on the shoulder.
“Alright, we’re here when you need us.”
Following behind Stoney, we walk into his office. “Have a seat,” he says, moving behind his desk. I’d figured my mom and dad would have come in here as well but they stayed behind.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Blowing out a breath, Stoney pulls out a bottle of Gentleman Jack from one of the drawers in his desk, placing it in front of me. Guess whatever he has to say is gonna require more than just the one beer I’ve had.
“Rage, I’ve got some shit I gotta tell you and you ain’t gonna like it. That being said, I’m glad you got your head out of your ass. Cleo needs you.” Stoney lets out a sigh.
“What ain’t I gonna like?” I grab the bottle, taking a healthy amount into my mouth.
“Cleo isn’t doing well. Since being here, she’s constantly in her head, never leaving her room unless one of us pretty much drags her. That being Momma B. We’ve all tried to get her to talk however, none of the brothers try to go near her unless it's involuntary. When one of the brothers comes near her, she begins to panic. She doesn’t sleep much and when she does, her screams can be heard throughout the entire clubhouse.” Stoney stops speaking to reach for the bottle, taking a swig, then another before continuing. “Before you got here, I’d just come from talking to her. I told her it was time to get help. Rage, she’s so fuckin’ deep in that head of hers, I don’t even know if you’ll be able to reach her. You walking away when you did was her undoing to everything.”
“Why haven’t you told me about this sooner?” I ask, clenching my fist, the need to punch something consuming me. They should have fuckin’ told me. It shouldn’t have gotten this bad for her. I’d have come to help her if I’d known.
“Truthfully?” he asks and I nod my head in answer. “I didn’t tell you 'cause you needed to figure out what the fuck you wanted on your own. You didn’t need someone to guilt you by telling you shit that was going on around here with her. She didn’t need that and neither did you. You’re here now, so what ya gonna do?”
“You still should have fuckin’ told me. Doesn’t fuckin’ matter if you thought it would have guilted me into coming or not. Cleo is my fuckin’ woman, always has been. I know I fucked up at the hospital that day, but I’ve always loved her. What I’m about to do, I need you, my mom, and all the brothers to stay out of my way. I’m claiming my woman and taken her ass home,” I say, standing up and moving for the door.
“You got it,” he says, grinning as he follows me back out into the main room.
Looking around, I spot Hades sitting at one of the tables with one of the clubwhores sucking him off while talking to Burner and Coyote. I shake my head, walking over to them. “Hurry up, brother, we’re leaving soon as I come back down here.”
“What the fuck? We spent all fuckin’ day ridin’,” Burner says.
“Just be fuckin’ ready. I’m not waiting.” I turn back to Stoney. “You might want to warn the brothers while I’m gone,” I say and then move toward the hall where all the bedrooms are. From what I’ve been told, Cleo’s been staying in my old room. I’m pissed at everyone right now for not telling me what’s been going on around here— and myself included for not coming sooner.
I open the door without knocking, and Cleo screams at the unexpected intrusion. At first glance, I know she hasn’t been takin’ care of herself as needed. Her hair isn’t shiny like it’s supposed to be, and her purple color has grown out, showing several inches of dark blonde. She’s also lost a good amount of weight.
“Lave, what are you doing to yourself?” I ask, using the short version of the nickname I’d given her the first night we met. She’s Cleo to everyone else but to me, she’s my Lavender. Ever since I met her, Cleo has always had light purple hair. I don’t know colors but it’s what I’d assume it to be.
“R . . . R . . . Rage, what are you doing here?” she whispers, her eyes wide as she takes in the fact I’m standing in her room.
“I’m takin’ your ass home where you belong, that’s what I’m doing here,” I tell her as I stalk toward her. I don’t give her a chance to say or do anything before taking ahold of her and tossing her over my shoulder.
Cleo kicks and screams as I carry her out of the room and out to my bike.
It’s time for her to come home.
3
Cleo
I couldn’t believe when my door slammed open with Rage standing there. I thought I was hallucinating but nope, there he was. I didn’t know what to feel when he put me over his shoulder and carted me out of the clubhouse to his bike. I didn’t go willingly either. I screamed, kicked, and used my fist to assault his ass. Didn’t help that throughout the entire scene, no one stepped forward to stop him— not even Momma B.
Now, I’m sitting on the back of his bike, holding on tight, fuming at the way he treated me. I’m also confused with why I’m not freaking out at being so close to him. Usually, I panic when one of the guys from the club comes near me, but not Rage.
Riding behind him feels right like it always has. Even though I’m pissed, I feel safe with him. I’m thankful he doesn’t have the Bluetooth turned on in the helmets as we ride. I’m not ready to talk to him yet. Not only due to the way he carted me out of the clubhouse like a sack of potatoes but because of everything else. He left me when I need him the most, and I’m mad at everything he doesn’t know happened.
As we make our way back to my hometown, the same town everything happened in, panic begins to set in. Shaking my head, I try to clear my head of the memories attempting to assault me. Rage reaches down to squeeze my thigh reassuringly as if he can sense my unease. Maybe he does. From the moment we met, Rage has always seemed to be able to sense when something isn’t right with me. For instance, when I would be working at Outlaw Racks and he’d be there with skanks flirting with him, it bothered me he didn’t push them away like I figured he would have— no, the jerk simply ignored their attempts of rubbing up on him. Those nights, I’d make sure to stay away from their table. I didn’t need to be getting into trouble.
When we get to town, I expect Rage to turn toward the clubhouse. It’s not like I have a place there anymore. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to go there again. Too many memories
involved with that place. Yeah, most are good memories and should trump the bad ones, but all the same, they’re all painful.
My thoughts consume me as I hold onto Rage, trying to fight them off so I can see where he’s taking me. When he turns into the driveway of the most gorgeous house I’ve ever seen, a gasp escapes me. The house looks just like the one I’ve always wanted— at least from what I can see through the dark. The porch light is on showing a beautiful wrap around porch with a swing in the corner. Growing up, I always loved going to my grandma’s house and sitting on hers. I’d sit there for hours listening to the wind blow through the trees. The house itself looks to be a remodeled farmhouse.
“Come on, Lave, let’s get you inside. I’m beat,” Rage says, turning the bike off.
“Whose house is this?” I ask, climbing off from behind him.
“It’s ours, Lavender. I just finished moving all your shit in here before coming to get you,” he replies with a shrug.
Words escape me at his answer. Holy Mother of God, seriously? Why the hell would he do this? I thought he didn’t want me after the last time I saw him.
“Babe, come on, I’ll show you inside,” Rage says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along the pathway to the house. My mind doesn’t seem to want to get past his words as they keep replaying in my head.
Once inside, Rage lets go of my hand, placing it at the small of my back and guiding me through each room on the bottom floor of the house.
“I left the old furniture behind figuring we could go shopping for a new couch and shit like that. Tomorrow, we can go look as well as get groceries. I had brand-new appliances put in, I know how much you love to cook and bake shit. We’ll have to get you pots and pans for it, the ones you used to have looked worn out. Upstairs, we have three bedrooms as well as a guest bedroom down here. I’ll be staying in that one until you’re comfortable with me being in your bed but that’s a discussion for another day,” Rage says.
“I don’t know what to say, Rage,” I whisper, looking up at him for the first time, noticing the dark circles under his eyes— he looks exhausted. He also hasn’t shaved in days from the scruff on his face.
“There’s nothing to say, Lave,” he says stepping toward me. Rage reaches up and I flinch as he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m gonna take a shower and hit the bed. If you need anything, don’t be scared to come to me. I’m always here for you.”
I don’t move until I hear his door shut. What the hell is going on? Did I get sucked into some other dimension? After everything that happened, him walking away from me and now he wants us to live together. Fuck me, I don’t know what to think about any of it.
Walking through the rest of the house, I head toward the stairs; I need a shower myself. Going to each door, I open them glancing in each until I get to the master bedroom— holy shit, the bedroom itself is huge, I mean huge. You could fit the other two rooms in here. The bed alone— I’m speechless. The frame looks to be hand craved. Running my hands along the smoothness, I wonder whose work this is. There’s no way Rage did this. Even if he dabbles in woodwork, his stuff is usually a lot smaller than this. This bed had to have taken a hell of a lot of time.
Moving from the bed, I finish looking around the room. All my old clothes are hanging in the walk-in closet with boxes of my things labeled with what’s inside. I shudder at the thought of some person I don’t know touching my things. Continuing, I step into the bathroom. I could live in here. The shower is a walk-in with an overhead shower fixture, but that’s not what I love most. It’s the tub, it’s huge just like everything else in the house. You could easily fit the two of us, leaving plenty of room to move around.
Seeing a basket on the side of it, I spot several bath bombs, I can’t help the smile that forms on my face. He remembers my love of baths. I fill the tub, picking one of the bombs up and smelling it, it’s lavender. Dropping it into the water, instantly it begins to fizz. I strip out of my clothes while the tub continues to fill up. Turning off the water, I step in and sink down into the water letting the lavender smell relax me as I soak.
Closing my eyes, I think about everything that’s happened today. From the conversation Stoney and I had this morning to Rage coming in my room, carrying me out of the clubhouse and bringing me here. I’m confused as to why he would do all this after walking away. Is it out of guilt or does he really want me? I highly doubt if he knew everything, he would want me. I can’t give him what another woman can— a baby. My body is too damaged.
Shaking my head, I finish up my bath before getting out to dry off. I don’t even bother putting any clothes on when I walk into the bedroom, I simply crawl into the giant bed, my mind running a mile a minute. I don’t want to fall asleep knowing what awaits me, my nightmares. It’s the same every time.
Exhaustion doesn’t let me fight, it never does. I fall asleep praying Rage doesn’t hear my screams.
4
Rage
Fuckin’ hell, it killed me to leave her standing there in the middle of the kitchen. I’d wanted to take her in my arms and let her know everything would work out. But I know better, she needs space to gather her thoughts. I only hope she doesn’t get stuck in them.
Tomorrow is a new day and I intend to start pulling her out of it. She’s gonna know I’m here with every intention of staying. Cleo is gonna know she’s my ol’ lady. I’ll be makin’ it known in the next church meeting too.
Jumping in the shower, my dick throbs for Cleo’s touch. Wrapping my hand around my dick, stroking it as I close my eyes, I envision my hand as her mouth. The warmth of her mouth as she groans around my thickness. Grabbing her hair and fuckin’ her mouth while she uses her hand to cup my balls.
A groan escapes me as I come— fuck, I miss having her body. This shit fuckin’ sucks, jackin’ off like a pubescent teenage boy, but I refuse to have anyone but her. Even in the time she was away, I refused the clubwhores’ advances. They don’t come close to the shine Cleo has.
Turning the shower off, I grab a towel as I step out. I’m exhausted after being on the road all fuckin’ day along. Doesn’t help I can’t get my mind off what Stoney told me. I gotta figure out a way to help Cleo. Maybe get her into counseling. If that happens, I’ll be sure she knows I’m sitting in on every damn one of her sessions. I refuse to let what fuckin’ happened to Izzy happen again. Some bitches are just fuckin’ crazy. The damn counselor tried to make Izzy feel inferior to being around her own family in an attempt to get her to leave Twister. What kinda person does that? And for what, to try and get a little dick? Fuck that. I’ll be sure to be there to protect my woman from that sort of shit.
Grabbing my phone, I lay back in bed looking into the different forms of help I can find for her. There are different support groups and crisis centers specializing in working with traumatized victims.
I don’t even realize I fall asleep. My dreams lately have been nothing but nightmares. They always rotate between my sister and Cleo. I wasn’t there to help find my sister, but my head shows her looking the same way Cleo did— beaten, battered, and covered in blood. In my nightmares, I can never get to either of them. I watch as faceless men attack them; an invisible wall seems to keep me out of there reach.
I feel like a failure for not being able to stop them from being hurt. But this time is different, as I attempt to get to Cleo the wall breaks and for once, I hear her screams. Screams so loud they wake me. Bolting up in bed, I shake my head to clear it— only it wasn’t the screams in my sleep that woke me but her really screaming.
Climbing out of bed, I rush up the stairs, needing to help her. Opening the door to what should be our room, it kills me to see her thrashing around in the bed as her screams grow louder, begging to whoever she’s fighting in her nightmares to let her go. Quickly I climb in next her, pulling her against me, soothing her with my voice in her ear. Whispering sweet, gentle words meant to calm her. Finally, after what feels like hours rather than mere minutes, Cleo stops screaming and her br
eathing smooths back out.
Fuck, Stoney wasn’t kidding about her screams in the middle of the night. Her nightmares must be worse than my own. I can imagine, especially after the bullshit she went through— add me walking away on top of it and Cleo’s had enough to last her a lifetime. I swear I won’t let anything else hurt her.
“Rest easy, Lave, I’ve got you. You're safe,” I whisper, holding her in my arms. I drift off for the second time that night, only this time the nightmares don’t come. That’s when I realize she’s not the only one who feels safe. With her in my arms, I’m just as safe. I may sound like a pussy, but I don’t give a fuck.
I groan at the sun shining in through the windows, fuckin’ hell we’ll need to get some curtains or some shit. I can’t stand the fuckin’ sun being that fuckin’ bright when I get out of bed. I’m not a morning person. I go to stretch, stopping myself when I remember Cleo being in my arms. Now, this I could get used to again. Damn if I didn’t miss her sleeping in my arms at night.
Gently, I get out of the bed, not wanting to wake her up just yet. I don’t know how she’d react to me being in bed with her, especially with me not wearing a damn thing. I make my way back downstairs to the guestroom and put on a pair of sweats. I go into the kitchen to start the coffee, it’s the only thing we have right now. I can’t live without my coffee. They call me Rage for a reason. I have a temper, but I can control it to an extent. I’m not one to fly off the handle. I save that shit for when I need a release, at which point, I find one of the brothers to spar with me. Not many of them will willingly go against me. Usually, it's Gadget, Dragon, or Hades who will take me on.
When the coffee is ready, I fix my cup. I hate all the sissy shit people put in their drinks. Leaning against the counter, I take in what all we need to get done today. I’m just finishing up my first cup when Cleo comes down the stairs.
