by Sam Crescent
“Oh, she will see it. You took her from me once, but you won’t do it again.”
Preacher stepped up to his son. “The only reason I haven’t smacked you down like you deserve is because you’re my son, but all I ask from you, Bishop, is to keep on going down this selfish path and I will make sure no one can ever identify your body.”
The threat was there.
For Preacher, there were only so many excuses he could make for his son before he realized he had to take him out. He’d only just gotten Robin back, and he couldn’t allow for anyone, not even Bishop, to take her from him. He didn’t know how he was going to deal with Bear either.
Without another word, Bishop turned on his heel and walked away. Soon, he would revoke his ability to enter the club. Preacher was getting tired of his tantrums and entitled ways.
Taking a seat, he stared across the hall once again, watching the comings and goings of the staff.
This was where Bear found him when he returned. “It’s a fucking fortune to be ill.”
“Do you need any money?” Preacher asked.
“Nope. It’s all taken care of.” Bear groaned as he sat down. “Seeing Robin like this, it makes me want to kill her all over again.”
“Rebecca?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too, and O’Klaren. That piece of shit got it easy.”
Bear laughed. “Neither of them got it easy.”
“That’s right, and they never will. I hope they’re rotting in hell somewhere.” He ran a hand down his face, trying to clear his thoughts. He was so fucking worn out. “I’m going to find him.”
“I don’t expect anything less. Reaper will have what’s coming to him. I know you’ll take care of it.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m going to do more than take care of it. When I finally have Reaper, I’m going to have him begging for death and praying to every single god there is.”
“I’m going to enjoy watching his torture. I’ll even join in. What are you going to do about Bishop?”
“Nothing. He’ll show his true colors. I want the word out with the club. Bishop no longer gets a free pass. His leather cut will be returned to us and I’m going to give the little shit an ultimatum.”
“Is this because of Robin?” Bear asked. “He’s your son.”
“Yeah, and he better start acting like it because so far, he’s no son of mine.”
****
Robin didn’t know if she hated hospitals or if this was her newfound disposition with them. She hated the food, the clothes, and the sounds. The machines drove her crazy and the constantly changing faces freaked her out. One nurse saw her in the morning, another at lunch, a different one in the evening, and then another at night.
The only constant was the doctor, Randall. He always seemed so happy and chipper. His happiness was infectious, and she looked forward to his visits.
She also liked spending time with her father. He snuck her cookies. According to him, chocolate chip was her favorite. She didn’t know if it was true but didn’t see a reason to doubt him. Bear was serious most of the time. She saw how sad he was, his nervousness around her. He wasn’t being himself and she hated not being able to put him at ease. He didn’t bring her any clothes and he’d told her she’d lost quite a bit of weight.
Between the cryptic words and meanings, she had come to see that she’d been gone from their lives for two years. She hadn’t gone of her own free will but someone had taken her. For two years, no one found her until she stumbled in front of an oncoming car, beaten, bruised, and broken. They don’t even know if the collision with the car was what caused her amnesia. They were all trying to be careful, to avoid overwhelming her.
She hated it but also appreciated their concern.
Then there was Bishop, her supposed husband. If he was married to her and they cared about one another as much as he said they did, shouldn’t she feel something? She didn’t hate him, at least, she didn’t think so. Whenever he did visit her, she found him exhausting. He wanted to constantly talk about himself, their future, and she didn’t even know their past.
He’d demanded she wear the wedding band, and she refused. He got a little angry at her refusal, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t wear something because he demanded it. He wasn’t her keeper, at least, she hoped he wasn’t.
All of it was a little confusing to her. She wanted to find her life again, and Bishop, he didn’t seem like he cared to even know the past with her.
His kisses, she found them a little uncomfortable as well. Was that her fault? Was she the one feeling the wrong kind of things when it came to Bishop? He kept looking at her with hope, as if she had some kind of magical answer, and the truth was she didn’t have anything. She was as clueless as him. There was no way for her to change anything that had happened to her.
Why are you even worrying about him? You’re the one in the hospital bed.
Then of course there was Preacher.
He didn’t speak a whole lot and he never brought up the past. For the most part, he didn’t even seem to be in any kind of rush to make her remember the past. He was happy to just sit and talk to her. She enjoyed his company the most.
There was stuff she knew had happened between them but again, it was more a gut feeling than actually knowing.
“Do you read a lot?” she asked when she woke up to find him sitting with her. There was always someone with the Twisted Monsters MC cut near her. She didn’t mind. The one who stuck in her mind apart from Preacher was Grave. That guy was scary, but he never made her feel anything but safe. The patch did that, for some strange reason. She’d asked Randall about it and he’d told her to wait and to allow certain memories to materialize all in good time.
She hated waiting.
“Nah, I don’t read a whole lot, but it seems I’ve taken it up while waiting for you to wake.”
She let out a little stretch. “I hate staring at this room.”
“You want to go for a walk?”
“I don’t feel like walking.” Twice a week, she was instructed to walk even with the cast, and it was proving difficult. Her pain medication had been reduced and she’d been expected to deal with it. If the pain was more than she could take, they would give her more drugs, but she didn’t like how groggy they made her feel.
“I’ll get a wheelchair. We’ll go out for a stroll.” He put the book beside her bed and left the room.
She lifted the book up and a picture fell out. She lifted it. It was one of her and Preacher, smiling. She looked happy.
Was this the clue she was struggling to find? Was there some kind of hidden message she should have? A clue?
Nothing came to mind and she had a sudden overwhelming need to hit her head. Before she could do that, Preacher returned, and she slid the picture back into the book. She’d ask him about it another time.
She didn’t need answers today, or even next week. She simply didn’t need answers at all. At least not yet. If she was married to Bishop, what was her relationship with his dad? Why did she feel more comfortable with Preacher than she did with her husband? None of it made any sense to her.
“Are you ready for your trip?” Preacher asked.
She pushed the blankets from her and Preacher moved closer. “Hold on to me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her with ease, carrying her to the chair. His closeness sparked something within her. A pleasure she didn’t know she possessed. It felt good to be in his arms, natural.
He put her in the chair and then started to put the blanket around her. “I don’t want you to be cold.”
He moved behind her and they left her room. The moment she was outside her hospital room … something changed. She was no longer confined to that one bit of space and she could finally breathe easier.
“Are you okay?”
“I am. I feel so much better.” She tilted her head back, offering him a smile. “You can stay with me, can’t you? We can do this?”
; “We can do whatever you want. We’re not bound by one place.” He moved onto the elevator and no one else shared it with them. She watched the floors change as they descended.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked.
“A little tired. Do you think I’ll ever get out of the hospital? I don’t need to stay here overnight all the time, do I? I’m not in danger or anything. I could go home, right?”
“Do you remember your home?”
“No. I don’t. Do I live with Bishop? Do I live with my dad? I’m twenty years old, so does that mean I married at seventeen? Why did I marry so young?”
“Those are all good questions. What I will say is after you married Bishop, you lived with me.”
“Will I be staying with you again?”
“Bishop doesn’t live with me anymore.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea if I stay with Bishop,” she blurted out. Should she have kept her nerves and doubts to herself?
“You can do whatever it is you want to do.”
The elevator doors opened.
“You’re not angry with me?”
“Why would I be angry with you?”
“Bishop’s your son.”
“I know.”
He didn’t give anything away, which was so frustrating.
“Did we have a good marriage? Everyone is being so secretive.”
“You need to remember everything in your way. We can’t give you clues.”
“But clues can be fun.”
“And you’re not going to get them.”
“This is so not fair,” she said.
He chuckled. “I don’t recall you being so impatient.”
“I don’t want to waste my life waiting for some clues as to what it all means. I know I’m not making any sense.”
“You’re making perfect sense.”
They were silent as they left the hospital, heading out to a synthetic garden. It didn’t look natural to her. He didn’t stop even when they came to some benches. Some people were smoking, others eating.
“The two years I was gone, did I leave of my own free will?” she asked. No one had told her the true extent of her leaving.
“What do you mean?”
“I get the feeling there’s something you guys aren’t telling me. Something big and it does scare me a little. Should I be worried?”
“You’ve got nothing to be worried about,” he said.
“Something bad happened, though?”
He came to a stop near the end of the garden. There was a bench toward the far side and he put the brakes on the chair, moving in front of her and taking a seat. The air had a chill but she didn’t want him to take her inside.
“Do you want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. The truth is someone took you.”
“Did I know this person?”
“No. You’d seen him but you’d never met him.”
“Oh.”
“There’s a lot that went on between then and now. This is the first time I’ve seen you in over two years.”
“Were we close? You and I?”
“We were, in our own way.”
“You’re very cryptic.”
“I’m not going to give you the answers to all of your questions. You’ve heard what the doctor said. Some stuff you really do need to figure out on your own.”
She blew out a breath. “So not making it easy for me.” She smiled.
“This isn’t something you need to rush.”
“But it feels like it.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“It’s like … I don’t know how to describe it. I feel like I have to figure everything out as fast as I can otherwise something bad is going to happen, and that scares me. I know I’m not making any sense. Even I don’t understand it.”
“The club, your dad, me, and even Bishop, we will protect you.”
“Right, Bishop.” She sighed.
“What’s he done now?”
“I don’t know. He’s impatient. Sometimes I don’t even know if I would even like him. My head is messed up. I clearly liked him enough at one point to have married him.”
“Things will all become clear one day.”
“And what if they don’t? I heard what the doctor said. All of this stuff takes time and there’s even a risk I’ll never remember. I don’t know if I ever want to live with that feeling.”
Preacher took her hand. “There was a time you would believe everything I said. I’m telling you now that I’m not going to let anything happen to you and I will take care of you.”
“Why do I always believe you?” she asked.
Chapter Five
“I’ve got my guys checking out all the hideouts from the list you gave me,” Dog said.
“Is this going to cause any trouble with your crew?” Preacher couldn’t give a shit about Dog’s crew or his hierarchy, or how he controlled his men. He had a lot of other problems to deal with, but he didn’t want to have to worry about his men watching their backs.
“They’re all good. They all know I’ll take them out if they even dare to speak out against me. This is what I tell them.”
Preacher nodded and Dog grabbed his arm as he was about to walk away.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Look, I know you and I, we’re supposed to be enemies and shit, but I’m still your friend. I’m still here for you if you need me.”
“I’m good.”
“I heard what happened. If you need any added protection, my boys and I will help.”
Preacher stared at Dog. He’d never really considered the man a friend before but he was offering his services as if they were. “What’s in it for you? I can’t give you the dinner date you wanted,” Preacher said.
“I’ve heard all about what happened to your girl. I’m aware the terms have changed.”
“There are no fucking terms.”
“You can get pissed at me, we can fight it out, or you can accept the hand of friendship I’m offering.”
Preacher didn’t know what to make of this turn of events. “The last time I checked, when someone wanted to change the rules of friendship, they had something to hide.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide. I know our partnerships haven’t always been … agreeable, but we’re friends, in our own way.”
“I appreciate it.” Preacher shook his hand.
“There’s a rumor,” Dog said. “One you’re not going to like.”
“And why should I believe rumors?”
“It got you to find the trail Reaper and his pests have been on, hasn’t it?”
Preacher folded his arms. For the first time in his life of knowing Reaper, he could safely say the other man had the upper hand.
“I’m listening.”
“Good. My boys are hearing whispers of it being an inside job.”
“I know he had help from O’Klaren.”
“No, we’re talking about someone within the club. You cannot deny it was way too much of a coincidence that Reaper could avoid you as much as he did. I heard you and he had a lot of history, but you’ve always been able to best him. If that was true, you should have found your girl long before now.” Dog held out his hands. “I don’t know who it is or who it might be, but you may want to consider who you put as a guard on your girl’s door.”
Preacher took the advice, shook hands again, and left. The latest form of business was complete. Dog had demanded an entire shipment of guns. He didn’t ask for the whys. In business, he didn’t care so long as he got paid and they had an agreement none of his gang war shit would touch his club or the town he was near. A town he very much wanted to protect with Robin now being back.
Straddling his bike, he took off toward the hospital.
When he arrived at Robin’s room, he saw Bishop was already there. Rather than taking the chair, his son sat beside her on the bed, eating her food, and he wanted to strangle him.
> “Hey, Pops,” Bishop said.
“He was just telling me a story about how you chased us all around the clubhouse when we were kids.”
“Dad, do you remember the summer we were four and we’d opened the beer cans into the inflatable pool? There was nothing for you guys to drink and you were so pissed?” Bishop asked.
It was a memory he’d forgotten about. Around the time Rebecca was taking care of the kids and bringing them around. It was before he’d killed Bishop’s mother. A lifetime ago when his life hadn’t gotten complicated and when he didn’t want to kill his son for invading his life.
“I remember.”
“It’s safe to say I don’t remember. Wow, we must have been so sticky with the beer.”
“It was your idea,” Bishop said. “You wanted to go for a swim. Your parents wouldn’t take you out to the lake and the only best thing was the beer. We snuck down into the basement and brought up so many cans, and no one was paying attention to us. Until they wanted their beer.”
She chuckled. “It’s great to see you again, Preacher. Can I offer you some dessert? I think it’s a chocolate cake.”
“The food is there for you to eat to gain strength.”
“They feed me so much. I feel a little sick. Bishop was helping me finish everything.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did you have a good morning?”
“Productive. You?”
“Ah, I’m doing fine.”
“And therapy?”
“It was … painful. They took another x-ray of my foot this morning. It doesn’t look good.”
“Randall says it may not heal right,” Bishop said. “I’m going to grab me some coffee. Do you want anything?”
“A hot chocolate sounds good.”
“Just like always.” Bishop got up, leaned down, and kissed her head.
Preacher’s hands clenched into fists.
It’s not good to hit your son.
If Robin hadn’t been struggling with her memory, he’d have taken the son of a bitch out. Instead, he had no choice but to watch, force a smile, and wait.
Bishop took her tray and left the room.
Preacher took a seat.
“I missed you,” she said.
