Chaotic Anger: The Seven MC Book 1

by Breck, A. R.

  I look into her tear-filled eyes and feel such loss. Loss because I want to stay but I don’t know if it’s what I’m meant to do. But where else would I go? It’s not like there’s anything out there for me, anyway. But maybe this is what I need. A complete fresh start.

  “I’ll stay. At least for a little while.”

  Her head falls forward onto our linked hands. “Thank you.” She sniffles, wiping away her tears. “Ugh, I’m such a pussy.” She scooches back so her back is once again up against the wall.

  Another silence ensues. I’m about to start dozing off again when Violet speaks up. “You know, today is a big day.”

  Interest piqued; I look up to see her standing. She stretches, her arms shaking a little as she extends them over her head.

  “Why?” I ask, suspicion heavy in my tone. I’m in no way in the mood for any more big days. For a long time.

  “When someone dies, all the charters get together. It’s a funeral of sorts, except we weren’t able to recover their bodies this time.”

  “So…” My eyes go wide.

  “The Oregon charter. The Texas charter. The Chicago charter. They’ll all be here later today.”

  “What does that mean?” I whine.

  She walks to the door. “It means there will be a lot of leather and drinking. A lot of hairy dudes.” She shakes her head. “I love days when we all get together. But, I also hate them. It means we lost someone.”

  “What if I don’t want to go?” Because I don’t want to go, like at all.

  She shrugs. “Then don’t go. But I think they will want you there.” She opens the door, slipping out. Before she closes it all the way, she whispers, “I know he would want you there, too.”

  I slide down until my head hits the pillow. I roll over until my face is buried into the sheets that smells like motorcycles, outdoors, and cigarettes. My eyes burn as a tear leaks out, dampening the fabric beneath my face. My mouth opens on a silent wail.

  I don’t want parties. I don’t want a house. I don’t want anything, really.

  I just need him.

  * * *

  Hours later, I’m watching the crowd below me as they socialize, drink, and party. Lilah complained for the first couple hours to go down there. She wanted to see what all the noise was and wanted to go swing on her swing set.

  I finally conceded after an hour, letting Violet take her to get something to eat and swing a few times. She came back much later than she said she would with a rosy smile on her face and all her baby teeth shining at me and tinted blue from the popsicle in her hand.

  “Mommy, I had fun!”

  I bend down and pick her up. “I’m glad you did, baby.”

  “You sure you don’t want to come down, Ivy? A lot of people were hoping to meet you.” Violet says, looking and sounding much better than she did during the early hours of the morning.

  I wince. “I’m fine. I’ll give Lilah a bath and then probably head to bed early.”

  Violet shakes her head. “Yeah, okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye Lilah!” She waves and shuts the door, a disappointed look crossing her face at the last second.

  I do as I’ve said I would. I give Lilah a bath, put warm pajamas on her and slide under the covers. The covers where the scent is fading day by day, being drowned out by the scent of Lilah and me. It makes me sad. It makes me want to sleep on the floor, so I don’t taint it. Or box up his belongings so I can go smell them when I need I’m feeling extra lonely. Like every moment of the day.

  Curling underneath the covers, I slide Lilah right into the curve of my stomach and squeeze her tight. I lay there for minutes, listening to the shouting and many conversations going on outside.

  Knock, knock.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to talk to anyone.

  Knock, knock.

  Fuck, go away.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  I whip the sheets off me. Fine, fucking fine. I turn the doorknob and pull the door open with more force than necessary, surprise slapping me in the face when I see Lynx standing on the other side.

  “Oh, hi.” I breathe, “Is everything okay?”

  “Haven’t seen you at all today. Where you been?” He crosses his feet at the ankles and leans a shoulder up against the doorframe. His body takes up the expanse of the doorway, shrinking everything around him. He’s a big man, handsome. I figured I was looking in a mirror on what Aziel would look like twenty years from now. Their faces are nearly identical, although where Aziel has blueish eyes, Lynx’s are a dark brown, muddy, almost. There are also crow’s feet that have sprouted around Lynx’s eyes, and a slight tint of gray I can see showing during the sunniest parts of the days appear near his scalp. Aziel kept his hair on the shorter side, and Lynx has his long, past his shoulders. Today it’s tied in a tight bun on the back of his head. His shaggy dark beard is trimmed shorter, although still long.

  I’ve been around Lynx for months now, and this is the first time I’ve been able to really take a look at him.

  “I’m not really in a party mood.” I let the oversized sleeves of Aziel’s sweatshirt fall past my hands and grab onto them, folding my arms across my stomach.

  “Listen, kid.” His voice books no weaknesses, and my eyes automatically shift up to his. “My boy, he cared for you. I can guaran-fucking-tee that you would have been his old lady someday. Probably already thinkin’ about it, knowin’ him.” Tears fill my eyes, and this time I don’t brush them away. “Now, knowin’ how much he cared for you, I think I can call you family, you know?” He taps a cigarette out in the same mannerism that Aziel did, and I almost fall to my knees in tears. “You’re now my daughter, whether you like it or not. And just like my son and any other fuckhead here that I can consider family, I’m going to whoop your ass into shape when need be.” He sparks up his cigarette, taking a heavy inhale and exhaling through his nostrils. “I haven’t been here the last couple days, you know.” He taps his skull. “Been fucked up, thinkin’ bout his last moments, what I could have done different. I realize there’s nothin’ I could have done. What’s meant to be is done, and he wouldn’t want me drownin’ myself when I’ve got a club to run.” He points a finger at me. “And he wouldn’t want you holing up and hiding when you’ve got family to lean on.”

  A sob breaks loose, and Lynx doesn’t coddle me. He doesn’t touch me or say anything to make me feel better. He just lets me break down in front of him. He lets me break loose and mourn the loss of the guy who I think I could have loved. With time, I could have loved him. And I think he would have loved me too.

  After I’ve cried all the tears I physically have in me, I wipe my raw nose and look up at Lynx.

  “Better?” He asks, cigarette long gone.

  “Not really.” I frown.

  “Good. You’ve got a ton of fuckin’ people downstairs that want to support you and help you through this. So, pick yourself off the ground and let’s go downstairs for a bit, yeah?”

  I glance back at Lilah, unsure on what to do.

  “She’s fine, Ivy. We’ve got unlimited babysitters here. And I think she’s comfortable enough that if she needs something, she knows where to go and who to talk to.”

  I nod, closing the door softly and following Lynx down the hall and into the party.

  So, I can do what Aziel wanted of me.

  To live.

  To breathe.

  To finally be free.

  * * *

  “I want to stay here!” Lilah shouts, my just turned four-year-old swinging higher than safe on her swing set. I’m certain she wants her toes to touch the clouds. Cassius and West sit nearby, tinkering on their bikes.

  “Is that fine with you guys? I just need to run down to the house for something.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder.

  “Want a ride? I could take you down there quick.” West stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans.

  “No, I’m fine.” I lift my hands. “I could use a few minutes of fresh air. Do you mind ke
eping an eye on her for a minute? Or else she can come with me.”

  Cassius waves me off. “Go. We got her.”

  I smile gratefully and start walking towards the back gate. I can’t say these last two months haven’t been an uphill battle. Because they have been. Completely vertical, actually. Some days are worse than others, but every day is maybe one percent better than the day before.

  Christmas has come and went. It’s now after the New Year, and I’m still here. When I woke up on Christmas morning with presents under the tree for Lilah, I think it solidified our home here. We can’t leave, not when I’ve found family and friends when I don’t have any anywhere else. Yeah, I could go and search for relatives if I really wanted to, but why would I? I’ve found family here, and I think it’s time I build some roots.

  I think I’ve found my place.

  I zip my coat to my neck and tighten my scarf. A light coating of snow dusts the ground and crunches underneath my shoes.

  The silence in the mountains is like unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed. Mostly during the winter. It’s silent up here, everything seems more still than by the ocean. But everything else becomes amplified. The sounds of the mountain streams as they trickle through the rocks. The smells of the fresh show and air, untainted by the pollution of people and cars and buildings. The mountain view with the snow decorating the peaks and the branches of the trees weighted down by the thick white. It’s a different world.

  And it took time for me to realize this is where I belonged. It took a lot of crying and packing up my bags. I even walked to the gate with Lilah in tow, everyone giving me blank looks as I dragged my daughter across the clubhouse.

  But I couldn’t walk through that gate.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t walk out of here and start over.

  That was the turning point for me. That was the moment that I realized; this is my life now. I’m not going anywhere.

  The relief on everyone’s faces as I walked back upstairs and unpacked my things. The tears of relief falling down Lilah’s face once I told her this is home.

  But a few things needed to change.

  I could no longer stay in the clubhouse. As much safety as it provided me, now that Santiago was out of the picture, I felt like I needed a little space. More than that, I couldn’t live in a one bedroom, one bed place anymore. I needed some space… and privacy. Everywhere I looked one of the guys was staring at me over my shoulder, the looks of pity pulling their lips down and a crease between their eyes.

  The walls were closing in, and I couldn’t breathe.

  I don’t want this to be a place that I hate, so I needed to take a step away and get my own place. Lynx was the first to bring up that I should take Aziel’s place. It’s sitting empty, gathering dust, and growing cold with memories. There was already a spare bedroom, and with a little personalization, it became Lilah’s room. I haven’t changed a thing in Aziel’s room. I don’t want to. I want it to be what it is, keep Aziel’s things untouched and unmoved.

  I want the memories to remain undisturbed and maybe, wishfully, he would return to me.

  The walk is silent as I wander through the snow-covered woods, the white covered pine trees glistening as the sun shines off of them. The smell of pine and fresh air linger around me and follow me all the way down the road and into the house. Arriving here the other week was like a slap in the face. It was only empty about a month, but the cold memories made it feel like a century old house, abandoned and forgotten.

  I rub my hands as I walk up to the thermostat. Cranking it up a few notches, I unzip my coat and walk towards the bathroom. Memories hit me in the face as I remember the first time I was here, when Aziel took me up against the shower wall. How my internal walls cracked and split wide, allowing him in. It took so long, a half decade of building steel walls and numbing myself to all feelings, and it barely took Aziel a blink of an eye to destroy those walls. Obliterate them.

  Why did he have to leave me?

  I strip myself of my clothes and open the curtain, wincing as the hooks scrape against the curtain rod in a sharp squeak. Stepping inside the shower, I turn it on to just below boiling and let the spray pelt my back. Lilah dragged me out of the house early this morning, eager to get to the clubhouse so she could play in the freshly fallen snow. I easily conceded, feeling a little melancholy today and not in the mood for a temper tantrum.

  I squirt some lavender body wash on my palm and set the bottle next to Aziel’s soap bottle. Pain strikes me directly in the heart. Everyone in the clubhouse seems to have moved on, at least to a degree. Not that they don’t miss him. They do. They are nowhere near appointing a new VP. His dad drinks more than he used to. The guys try to hide their looks of despair, but it’s clear to me, the one who feels the loss like a bullet to the heart.

  I stand under the spray until the water runs cold, then step out and grab the towel hanging near Aziel’s, wrapping it around my body and securing it underneath my arm. I press my palm again the foggy mirror and wipe away the condensation. The face that stares back at me is one that has seen and lived a thousand lives.

  My blonde wavy hair hangs in wet locks down my back, dropping to my waist. My blue eyes have dulled from years of torment and stress, fading to a dull gray. My cheekbones are slender and sharp, pointing towards the cupid bowed lips that are always a shade too pink.

  My life feels lost, but I also feel found.

  A piece of my heart and soul died in Mexico when Aziel died, but a piece of my heart and soul was found in Mexico when Aziel found me. I’ve traded a piece of happiness for a piece of sadness. A barter, I suppose.

  I’ll thrive in this new world, because I have to. For me. For Lilah. For Aziel.

  He didn’t die without purpose, is a moto I have to repeat in my head every day.

  My ears perk when I hear the front porch squeak and groan. It’s an old house with an old porch. The boards have been known to protest at the slightest weight or from the howling wind.

  It could be a squirrel, raccoon, or even a bear.

  I shiver.

  When the sound doesn’t come again, I slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Walking to the old oak dresser, I pull out some black leggings and one of Aziel’s black hoodies. I slip them on quickly, ready to get back to Lilah.

  Her attitude has been absolutely dreadful lately.

  The porch groans again, this time it sounds like one of the chairs out front gets bumped, sliding across the porch in an awkward protest.

  My face grows hot in worry.

  The guys wanted to teach me some self-defense, but I haven’t found the time. Now I feel stupid for putting it off.

  What if Santiago got away?

  I walk over to Aziel’s nightstand, pulling it open and picking up an ancient, large, jagged knife that’s tip has been broken off.

  My breathe comes out in uneven puffs as I press my toes to the floor, walking as quietly as possible towards the front.

  Where’s my phone?

  I mentally walk through where I had it last. I haven’t had a phone in over five years, it feels so unnatural to have one again.

  So, fucking unnatural, that I left it at the clubhouse.

  Fuck.

  Down the hall and into the kitchen, I make my way towards the front door. The windows are covered by heavy curtains, but with the groaning of the porch boards, I can tell whatever intruder was out there, still is.

  I press my hand to the cool lock, my other hand holding the knife as I reach for the doorknob. I swallow down the growing lump in the back of my throat, ready to end whoever wants to make my life a living hell for the thousandth time.

  One, two, three…

  My thoughts ring in tune with the thumping in my ears as I swing the door open.

  My knife clatters to the ground.

  My breath flies out of my chest in a gasp.

  “Aziel?”

  23

  Aziel

  Two months ago

  “I
’m glad I rescued you that day. I’m glad you were crawling through the destruction and looked up at me with your big blue eyes. I didn’t realize the emptiness in my life until you crashed into it. If all I get with you is a few moments, well, at least I had you at all.” I breathe to her. The panic to say something, anything to her is like a premonition.

  Something is seriously fucked up right now.

  Blinding pain hits me in the back of the head. My vision goes black with the blunt pain as I get pulled to the ground.

  I don’t hear Ivy anymore, and I can only hope she’s run for her life, far away from here. The nerves I smell aren’t just mine.

  Santiago knows something.

  I start getting pulled by my ankle. My back drags across the floor and down a step, the back of my already tender head slamming against the lip of the stair.

  “Fuck!” I roar, arching from the pain.

  I swing my other foot out, hooking them around his ankles and pulling as hard as I can. My trapped ankle gets released, and I shake my head, clearing my vision and watch as Santiago stumbles from my intrusion. Irritation and fury lines his face. But more than that, determination dances around the edges of his eyes, and I know that determination has to do with Ivy.

  No fucking chance.

  I sit up, swinging my fist and hitting him right in the kidneys. He bows and grunts, his face blanching in pain. I use the moment to stand, punching him right in the nose. It crunches beneath my knuckles, and pulling my hand away, I already have a streak of blood coating my knuckles.

  “Fuck!” Santiago roars, his accent thick with pain.

  I glance over my shoulder, looking outside and seeing where Ivy last stood is now empty.

  Thank fuck.

  Santiago grabs the back of my hair, pushing me into the wall. I hear a crunch myself, and I can’t tell if it’s my nose or the wall. I instantly can taste blood in the back of my sinuses.