by Ryan Michele
My hand went to my belly, not feeling a bump but knowing that my child grew inside of me which got my butt in gear. Failure was not an option—not for me, not for Sybil, and more importantly not for my unborn child. We were going.
I stuffed pieces of Sybil’s belongings inside my bag because she didn’t have enough room in her arms.
Sybil loved to have things, possessions, but hers were rocks, acorns, things found in nature. It was all we could have. Given the risk she was taking in joining me, I would give up as much space as I could to give her room for her trinkets.
We said nothing. We made not a sound as we walked down the small hallway on very careful feet.
Fear wrapped around me like a snake ready to strike at any given moment. It felt like walking on eggshells knowing one wrong move would break the egg and send the people in this house on alert.
It was the unknown that scared me when it came to this place.
Sybil stopped me with an arm to my shoulder, then leaned in. “Dad’s with her tonight,” she mouthed, pointing to the door. Sybil’s attention to detail meant she knew our father’s schedule too. She was so much smarter than anyone gave her credit for. Here, though, women got no credit for being smart at all.
My hand clenched around the bag, and my heartbeat picked up speed. We couldn’t make a noise outside this door. Our father was a light sleeper, saying he needed to keep an eye on all of us. He’d bolt out of bed in a second, and there would be hell to pay. See what I meant about a boobytrapped house?
On a nod, I looked down at my feet, thankful for the small bit of light coming in through the minuscule window, and found the floorboard we needed to stay away from.
Pointing down to it as a reference for my sister, she nodded as we both stepped over it. We were able to get just beyond the bedroom door, but my relief was short lived as we arrived at the stairs.
The home was older than dirt, and my father had my brothers fixing things all the time. I flashed Sybil numbers with my fingers on which stairs to skip. While she probably already knew this, she didn’t quibble; she nodded as we descended.
Not sure how we made it all the way down without a sound, but once we were on the landing and took the final step, we both turned to each other and smiled. A slight feeling of accomplishment washed over me briefly, but we weren’t free yet.
Sybil darted off through the house. My guess was to find a bag for her things. I went to the front door and slipped on my shoes.
Sybil came moments later, slipping on hers.
Relief felt like a warm blanket. Our exit was within reach. We had this. We were going to get out of this hell-hole. Only the door kept us from the freedom we needed so badly.
Unlocking the door, the tick of the lock reverberated through the space, just as the light from upstairs came on. Fear threatened to consume me. Frozen, I couldn’t think, and I couldn’t move.
Panic wrapped around me like a cold blanket threatening to take the breath out of me.
Our time was up.
We either opened this door now, or we’d get caught by whoever was awake.
So many thoughts and emotions ran through my head, but it was Sybil’s push that got me going. The slight nudge was the reminder I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t about to come this far to give up now.
Without allowing myself time to think, I reacted. We opened the door and ran.
As fast as our feet could take us into the dark of night, we were gone. The only thing on my mind was to hell with the consequences.
1
Micah
The wheels touched down on the tarmac, causing the plane to jolt around and for us passengers to shift a bit in our seats. The woman next to me squealed so loud it echoed in my ears. It wasn’t that bad of a landing. I’d had worse, lots worse.
This was just a small glitch. A bump in the road.
If this scared her, being on an Osprey and landing on a dirt field with no wheels to the ground and no runway, teetering from side to side, would give her a heart attack. Her fears, her reaction, though, were nothing compared to the pounding inside my chest. It had absolutely nothing to do with this plane or the rough landing.
It was all about the place.
Sumner, Georgia.
Home. Or at least it was at one time.
Once upon a time, that word felt like a curse. Sumner was everywhere I didn’t want to be, plain and simple. Only that was then.
Now, it all seemed like a distant memory. Another life. Another person living it. Another world.
It had been four and a half years since I’d stepped foot on Sumner soil. Even on leave, I chose other places to go, much to my mother’s dismay. My father and mother would come and meet me at times, but it would only be for a couple days.
It was best that way.
Short term, seeing my folks kept the topics from getting heavy with the shit going on at home. I was certain they wished I had come home before now. Truthfully, I left behind a shit show of my own making. The fact of the matter was they weren’t the only ones who wished I had returned earlier. I had quite a bit to answer for, and to more people than my parents.
With things being complicated out in the field and me needing to keep my mind on the next mission, the heavy needed to stay in the recesses so the present could overrule. Shit at home meant nothing when bullets were flying and your fellow Marines needed you to have their back. They came first. Everything else had to take a back seat. Compartmentalize and press on, that was something I had mastered since being away.
Thankfully my parents were far more understanding than I ever expected them to be. Unconditional love was a myth to me before, but now, I truly felt it.
Everything was different for me now. Not that anyone here knew shit about the man I had become, and I preferred it this way.
Things were complicated enough for me where home was concerned.
My father was a member of the Ravage Motorcycle Club. He had eaten and breathed the way of the brotherhood since before I was born. Something I couldn’t understand as a boy.
The club had consumed my life since being brought into this world, sucking everything up with it. My father was always out with his brothers and would leave my mother home alone while he did whatever it was he did. There wasn’t a single day, moment even that the club wasn’t thrown in my face, or at least that was how I viewed it back then. The more the club came first, the more the jealous rage built inside of me.
Every party we attended was at the clubhouse or another club member’s home. We had no one outside of the club. Even the kids at school stayed away from me, saying their parents feared my father. The curious kid I was felt trapped, smothered in a way.
Every memory was encompassed by the club, and in the end my feelings for it turned bitter and resentful. Why couldn’t I have normal? Or, at least, what my child mind envisioned to be normal.
With all of that and my adolescent attitude, my mouth spewed things that could never be taken back.
Vile things.
Hateful things.
Against the club.
Against my father.
Against everything.
I was so over all of it then, and I’d let it be known to anyone who’d listen. I was the rebellious punk-ass kid who no one could stand.
Time heals all wounds, the saying went… Only in time, the conversation in my head didn’t improve. The older I grew, the more stubborn I became. There was no changing my mind; there was no opening dialogue to allow me to see how things really were. From a boy into a young man, the indignation and irritation inside of me only continued to grow.
When I left for college, the only person to miss me was my mother. Returning, I was sure my parents were hopeful I had changed my mindset about their lifestyle. Then there was the reality of when I came back. While I wasn’t sure how it would all pan out, the path I was on didn’t make the situation much better. My mouth once again got the better of me. Lacking the maturity to understand that some things were best left
alone, I stirred up more shit than I ever imagined.
Consequences.
They never crossed my mind.
The pain I would cause others didn’t matter.
The position I put both of my parents in, being torn between their son and their family, wasn’t something that even registered in the recesses of my mind.
I came home with an arrogance.
Entitlement.
That was the best way to describe my attitude after college.
These people owed me. In my mind, I should have returned, and they would fall in line with me.
Except, Ravage didn’t work like that.
Too stuck in my own thoughts and expectations, I couldn’t see what had been right in front of my face. That in no way was how anything occurred. The longer I was home, the worse I continued to make my situation.
The damage was done.
And for the first time, I recognized the problem was me. Except, I didn’t leave it at that. Like the punk-ass they all thought me to be, I had one final nail to put in my coffin. Dropping the bomb I held in my hands, I recklessly tossed the Ravage world on its very axis before taking off. I didn’t face it like a man, though. No, I let it be known I had sat on information for months, and when I finally made the choice to reveal my secrets, I did so by mail.
I had made up my mind that Sumner was not the place for me. In the days and weeks before I left, I learned a lot about myself. Losing Emery and what I thought were my given rights as the son of a Ravage member, I realized just how immature I had been. I wasn’t the man for her, my parents, or the club I so desperately hated and respected equally. The conflict inside of me was too much to bear. I knew what I had to do, and that could only be done away from home.
When I left Sumner behind me last time, I did it with the sole intention of getting my head screwed on straight. That was what no one knew. Finally, I could clearly see the damage I had caused at every turn. I recognized the pain I inflicted. More than anything, I simply knew the man I was then wasn’t the man to stand up and fix what I had destroyed.
Those words I tossed out, that attitude I carried around, and all the problems I caused, well, I’d have to answer for. The time to pay the piper, so to speak, was long overdue. Knowing retribution would come the moment those hateful words spilled from my lips didn’t stop me then. Now I knew I’d done wrong, and I was more than ready to get everything out. To be released from these chains that held me down for so long, and I would do so by any means necessary. It was time to release myself.
I was a boy lost in a world of chaos. Now, I was a man who understood my naivety, immaturity, and downright defiance were wrong and out of place. It was a very powerful realization.
The announcement bell pinged as we gathered our things, getting ready to exit the plane. All I hoped was there wouldn’t be too big of a delay. I missed my parents. We may not have seen eye to eye, but they were my family, and it was time for me to rebuild the bridge that had once burned to the ground. Time to let the past lie and move on.
The noise of the speaker coming to life rang through the space. “If everyone would kindly keep your seats, we have a local hero in our midst, and the Captain would like him to exit the plane first.”
Some flights did this, while others didn’t. It wasn’t something that bothered me, nor was it something I craved. It was just part of the job, a way civilians liked to show respect. We didn’t do this job for the recognition, though. We did it because we believed in the United States, our country. It’s the land of the free, because of the brave, as my mother would say. I was a United States Marine. I served my country with honor, courage, and commitment. There wasn’t a single thing in my life I was more proud of than my time in service.
The crowd looked around with groans on their lips. This was something else. Some people were pissed that the Captain would take five minutes to let someone off first. Everyone was so caught up in the hustle and bustle of their lives, their very freedom, that to be on this plane was something taken for granted. I know the cost of these luxuries we have in America. Things most people will never even be able to imagine. Just like now, they give you the snide eye or say something moronic, but all I could do was think I fought so you could act like an ass and say whatever you want. It wasn’t worth the time to get angry about. Life moved on.
The world pressed on.
The flip side to the inconsiderate fucks were the others. Those were people happy to sit and wait, with some even giving us a round of applause. Each person had a different view of seeing a Marine or supporting the military in general. It was the freedom for them to choose their path; that was why we did what we did. Why we spent sleepless nights in the smoking hot desert and put our lives in jeopardy every minute of the day.
I stood for the red, white, and blue. My country. The one I fought for so the people on this plane could moan and groan about being inconvenienced. It was what it was.
It wasn’t like my seabag didn’t give it away. The large waterproof green duffel bag had been my life for four long years. While packing it certainly took practice, I had packed up and carried mine on. My high and tight haircut, standard military order also, did nothing to hide the fact that I was a member of the service. The United States Marine Corps to be exact. Oorah!
The cockpit opened, and the Captain stepped out and walked straight to me. Rising from the chair, I stood in the aisle, as the Captain offered his hand. “Thank you for your service.”
Shaking his hand, I nodded in answer. There were no words that needed to be said.
“Get home.”
Yep. It was time to go home and see how my life would be now. What had changed? What was the same? Who would hate me, which I knew a lot would. And by some miracle, who would give me a second chance? The hate, the consequences, they were all part of it. Could I overcome the shadow of the boy I once was? This was yet to be determined. My goals, my thoughts, my entire being was different than the person I was when I left here last time. They didn’t know that, though, and I wasn’t so sure anyone cared to give me an opportunity to find out who the man I was today happened to be.
Without missing a beat, my eyes scanned the space ahead of me. My mother, also known as Blaze, was the first person I saw as I exited the plane, tears streaming down her face. Her hand in a fist over her lips as she tried to breathe. She’d always been beautiful, and that hadn’t changed one bit. Even with tear streaks running down her face. She loved me in a way I didn’t understand before, but I treasured it now.
Next to her was my father, Andrew, but he went by Tug. He had a wide smile on his face. We had shit to work out, but he was obviously happy to have me home. There was a time I never thought we would be in this place, but I’m damn sure glad we were now. It took a long time. When he told me he was proud of me two years ago after meeting me for a visit, the tension in our relationship began to slightly uncoil. There was a lot more to go, but it was a start, and I’d take it.
What I didn’t expect was the shock to my core as I saw the members of the Ravage MC and their women all standing behind Mom and Dad. Some with signs, holding them up high.
All. Of. Them.
Cruz and Princess. GT and Angel. Buzz and Bella. Breaker and Shaina. Rhys and Tanner. Ma and Pops. Cooper and Bristyl. Deke and Rylie. Austyn and Ryker. Green and Leah. Nox and his woman, who I hadn’t yet been introduced to, but Mom had told me about her. Axel. Raiden. Booker. Mazie. Every single one of them stood in front of me.
A huge gut punch was Emery and Jacks. Jacks hated me and had every right to. I’d hate me too if the shoe was on the other foot. That bridge gap would take years to heal, if it ever could be. I wasn’t going to hold my breath, or death would meet me faster. I’d earned his backlash for a lifetime, that was certain.
Emery.
The memories flooded through me, but I pressed all the emotions down. God, the woman who I’d thought about so many times over the years. She was stunning even now. There had always been something about Emery
to me. Her smile and ease to be around. I’d always thought she’d be mine, but that wasn’t the plan.
She would forever be the one who got away. As long as she was happy, then I was happy for her. It was time to let that go, for good. No going back. That door was bolted shut forever.
It blew my mind seeing everyone welcoming me home.
Just like the people who grumbled and were impatient, I was once in that mindset. I couldn’t see outside of my own boundaries or understand real loss, real sacrifice, and just how big the world really was. This right here was something that I didn’t understand before I left for the Marines. It wasn’t something that I could wrap my head around because I was blind to see it.
Now, I understood.
They were all family.
My family.
A family I had taken for granted. A family that truly meant everything to me now. I once was blind, but now I see, and I saw it all clearly. A family that was as strong as they came. One where blood most certainly wasn’t thicker than a Ravage MC bond.
One that wouldn’t be letting me slide into the fold easily. That I knew for a fact. The Ravage MC didn’t back down, especially from protecting those they considered family. Never back down had become sort of a motto with them, if one could call it that. I crossed lines I knew better than to cross. I burned bridges that could possibly take an eternity to rebuild. Hard work wasn’t something I feared or shied from.
Fuck, I had a lot of explaining to do.
It would be painful, I had no doubt, but I wanted this and wanted to be part of the Ravage MC family.
“Hey, Mom,” I greeted strongly, even though inside I was stunned by them all. She said nothing and pulled me into her arms, holding me tightly as I dropped my seabag to the floor so I could embrace her. There was nothing better than a mother’s love and a mother’s hug. She had always been my biggest supporter. She was the definition of unconditional love. I didn’t deserve this, but I was damn sure thankful for it. Her sobs were choked as she started to hiccup, her body shaking. “It’s okay. Calm down, Mom.”
