by Bourne, Lena
“What’s going on, Ink?” I ask, because I need to get this fear out of my head and into the open before it eats me alive.
“We should talk,” he says calmly and my heart rate picks up even worse. I think he started the conversation during which he broke up with me this way too. Maybe he didn’t use those exact words, but the feeling—the panic—he conjured up inside me that time was the same. I recognize it. It’s how my worst nightmares feel like.
I move away from him and sit on the foot of the bed, looking down at the carpeted floor. “OK.”
“OK,” he echoes and sits down next to me, but then it’s just silence again. This time I don’t want to break it, because it’s better he stay silent instead of saying what I think he will say.
He clears his throat eventually and lays his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently. I love it when he touches me. I feel protected and loved and desired every time he does.
“You know how I never joined my uncle’s MC so the two of us would be free to do whatever we wanted?”
I look at him and nod. Of course I remember. We talked about it a lot.
“And I never took a job at my dad’s company for the same reason,” I say. “But that’s alright, I can quit anytime. In fact, I pretty much already have.”
My dad and my brother have been calling me like crazy since Monday morning, leaving tons of voicemails and texts, but I’ve ignored them all. I’m not going back and eventually I’ll call and tell them that. But for now I just want to spend all my time with Ink and all my thoughts on recreating what we had.
He smiles and squeezes my thigh again. “You’re not the problem. You never were.”
I gasp and am about to argue, because that’s just a naïve and untrue thing to say. My father was always a big problem. The land deed I took from him and what Ink’s mom told us proves that beyond doubt. And that makes me the problem.
“I joined a different MC up north,” he says before I can say all that though. “And this one is even harder to get away from than my uncle’s would’ve been. It might even be impossible.”
He looks at me, and I can’t for the life of me close my mouth, which I opened in shock. In none of the ways I pictured this conversation going was him telling me this a possibility. He’s not free to go away with me? Is that what he’s telling me? My head’s spinning.
“What I’m saying is that if we go away together, we have to really disappear this time,” he elaborates. “I’ll tell them I’m leaving, and ask them not to come after me. And maybe I’ve done them enough favors for that to work, but generally, that’s not how MCs operate.”
“You think they’ll kill you if you desert?” I ask, using a military term because I don’t know how else to call it.
He takes a few moments to think about it, during which he looks very deeply into my eyes. His are soft like the most pleasantly warm blanket on a chilly day, but I have no idea what he sees in mine. Fear and shock probably, because that’s the two things I’m feeling most acutely.
“Let’s just say they won’t be happy about me leaving,” he says. “But I wasn’t with them for long and I joined when they needed me. I’ve done a lot for them and I didn’t ask for anything in return. All I’ll ask is that they let me go now. Maybe what I’ve done for them will be enough to buy me freedom.”
“Are they looking for you right now?” I ask. “Are you in danger right now?”
I know I’d rather live without him, but have him be safe and alive somewhere, than to mourn his death. I know that.
He shrugs. “They could be. But they won’t find me here in San Diego.”
“They know you came to see me?” I ask.
Despite myself, I wish he’d withheld this truth from me, but he nods.
“Then they’ll find us, Ink,” I say and take his hand. “You have to set this right.”
“I don’t know if there’s a way to do that,” he replies. “The best option is to just go.”
“There has to be another way. You can’t live in fear for your life every day,” I counter and ignore his sarcastic chuckle. “Now I’m even more sure of what I said before. We have to go back home and set everything right before we can leave. There’s the issue of your mom’s land and what my dad did to get it. You also have to talk to the guys at your MC and make sure they let you walk away in peace.”
He’s shaking his head, looking at me like I’m being overly naïve.
“Do you really not understand that this is the only way we’ll ever truly be free, Ink?” I ask exasperatedly. He always was so stubborn and set in his ways once he made up his mind. He was also always too impulsive for his own good.
“I wish we could just pack up and leave, I really do. I wish we were both completely free and unburdened by anything so we could do that. And these last few days, they’ve been like a blast from the past in which we were that free, when what you’re suggesting was completely possible,” I say, feeling heat and most likely color rising in my cheeks.
“But it’s not like that anymore. Do you really want to keep looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life? Because I don’t,” I keep on talking before he could interrupt. “I don’t know much about the way MCs work—”
He finally stops me talking by placing his thumb over my lips gently.
“Yeah, you’re right about that, you don’t know how MCs work and I don’t want you to know,” he says. “I just need you to trust me that I do know and not argue with me when I say the best way is to just disappear.”
“You’re wrong,” I say, even though his thumb is still blocking my lips. He’s being condescending as hell right now, and normally I’d speak up about that, but there’s no doubt in my mind it’s all coming from a place of love for me and protectiveness over me. He’s not trying to just put me in my place at all.
He stands up and looks very tense. “I can’t talk about this anymore. I’m going for a ride. I need to think.”
I shoot to my feet too. “Don’t leave me again.”
I can’t believe how needy I sound. I’ve never been like that. I could always say, “Fine, go,” whenever he ended an argument by saying exactly this, and there have been plenty of times when he did that. Will I ever be firm like that again? Will I ever completely trust that he’ll be back after he leaves?
When he told me we can’t keep seeing each other, I ranted and argued and he heard me out, then told me he needed to go for a ride. I begged then, something I never, ever want to do again, though to keep him, I think I would. But none of it changed his mind, and I didn’t see him again for a year.
Tonight, I can’t face the fear of that happening all over again, especially not after everything he just told me. And if that makes me a needy, co-dependent woman, then so be it.
“I won’t leave you again, Julie. I’ll come back,” he says quietly, probably seeing most of that in my face. He probably also knows I’ll start begging him to stay, if he insists that he has to go.
“How can I just believe that?” I ask in a sad and broken sort of voice, because this is so not who I am. And yet, it is me. The me I became, the one that knows I couldn’t face losing him, missing him, getting over him again.
“Come with me then,” he says and extends his hand for me to take. “But I don’t want to talk anymore. I just want to ride.”
I could point out that we will have to talk more, a lot more, but I think he knows that. He just meant we won’t be talking tonight. So I take the hand he’s offering me, and walk out of the room with him, feeling a little ashamed over how I acted, but mostly just really happy and loved, because he didn’t call me out on it.
He accepts me at my worst, loves me no matter what, always has. I know that. I just wish he’d believe and trust I feel exactly the same way about him and his flaws, and always have. I’d even run from an MC that wants him dead with him. But I’ll admit that only after we’ve exhausted all other options.
* * *
Ink
I rode for the better par
t of the night, while Julie fell asleep clutching my waist and resting against my back. Her even breaths tickling my neck were all I thought about for a good long while.
I also thought about other things, but I came to no good conclusion, made no good plans. If there’s a peaceful way out for us, I don’t see it.
All I know is that the level of shit I’m willing to put Julie through is very low, but that’s something I’ve always known. I also know that I never again want to see her as beat down as she was when she asked me not to leave her behind in the hotel room. That’s not her, and I don’t want to be the guy who turns her into that. I’m afraid that ship has already sailed, but I’ll do what I can to bring it back to port, back to the way it was.
She didn’t wake up when I stopped at this dark and deserted observation point at the top of the cliff. She stirred, but didn’t wake when I carried her to this bench and let her keep on sleeping in my arms. I thought my bullet holes where healed, but the ride and carrying her over to the bench woke a pain deep in one of them. It’s the one that came so damn close to my spine that if it hit half an inch to the left, I’d be sitting in a wheelchair right now and not on this hard bench, so the renewed pain reminded me clearly and vividly just how close I came to having most of my choices taken away.
As clearly as I knew it when I got shot. That clarity was the reason I made the choice to get Julie back. But I should’ve planned for what would come after too.
She’s awake now, but not moving, not speaking, staying true to her word that she won’t force me to talk. I feel like a dick for asking that of her, because if the last thing I heard was the sound of her voice speaking to me, saying anything at all, even arguing with me, I’d die a happy man.
She took me back. Now it’s time to turn that into our future, one we both survive. One that’s worth giving her life to. It’s time to make those plans.
12
Julie
“You awake?” he asks softly as his arms tighten around me.
“Yeah,” I murmur and take hold of his forearms.
“Let’s talk,” he says, and I can’t help but sigh.
“I thought that was the one thing we’re not supposed to do tonight,” I reply and he chuckles, then kisses the top of my head and hugs me even tighter.
“It is what it is, and I am who I am, Julie,” he says, laughter in his voice.
“Yes and I know you, and I love you with all your faults,” I say and snuggle closer to him. I want to kiss him, but if we start doing that we won’t get to the talking part, and we do need to talk.
“Those just keep on piling up between us though,” he says in a serious voice.
“That’s why we need to clear them up,” I say, extricating myself from his arms so I can look into his face. He doesn’t let me go easily, but eventually we’re facing each other.
“You do understand that, don’t you?” I ask, since he’s not saying anything.
He nods. “I understand you really want us to go back home.”
I can’t believe he’s doing this. I can’t believe he’s turning this around on me.
“Come on, Ryan,” I say. “How many times do I have to show you that you’re the only one I want to be with? How many times do I gotta say it? And how many different ways do I gotta prove that you’re more important to me than my real family? I broke into my father’s safe, and I stole a deed for a piece of land that my family’s been trying to own for generations. I have things in my possession that could put him and my brother in prison. What more do you want from me?”
I barely see his face, because it’s still dark outside.
“Alright, relax.” It sounds like he’s smiling as he says it, but I can see he’s not. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“That’s exactly what you were saying, and I don’t want to hear it,” I mutter petulantly. “I want your mother to get her land back and I want to force my father to stop messing with you and your family.”
He nods. “I know all that, Julie, and I’m so fucking grateful for what you’re trying to do, but at the end of the day, it’ll just make matters worse. That land means nothing to my mom, she already gave it up, and we’re already free of all of it. We just have to keep riding and everything will just fade away.”
“What about your MC?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’ve been thinking about that too. They’ll let me go, I think. I don’t owe them a damn thing and they owe me some. We can come to an understanding about that, I think.”
“That’s a lot of “I thinks”, Ink,” I say, hearing clearly that this is still the exact same thing he said about it last night, meaning he’s done no more thinking about it. He’s just saying it in a way that suggests he has. “Running away isn’t our best option anymore, and I think you know that too.”
“What do you think confronting your father will achieve?” he says kind of harshly. “He already made his play. He threatened my family, he allegedly had my father and ten other MC guys killed for a piece of land, which in the end my mom sold to him and got paid for. She knew what she was doing. She bought peace with it. And now what? We make him come into the clubhouse and admit what he did? How do you think that’s gonna play out?”
He pauses, looking at me hard and breathing heavily.
“My dad will admit to what he’s done and give the land back,” I mutter.
“With all those guys dead, with my father dead, and your father now admitting he had him killed, no one’s gonna listen to reason,” he goes on. “It’ll actually be all the reason they need to kill him. Then there’ll be a war. The only thing that prevented that war was my uncle’s willingness to make peace with your father. I’m sure not everyone agreed with that. I’m sure if we bring them proof that it was all just for land, there’ll be war. More people will die, more lives will be ruined, and I’m pretty sure ours will be among those. You think you’ll just waltz in there with your proof and your wish to make everything fair and right, and we’ll all live happily ever after together? It’s not gonna go that way.”
I know he’s not really angry at me, he’s angry at the situation, and probably at his uncle for not bringing this war to my father the moment his dad was attacked. But I can hardly tell the difference between that anger and this one. That’s one of the main reasons I want to make it all right—so he doesn’t end up resenting me for it.
“What’s so wrong with trying to make things fair and right?” I counter. “Who says you’re right about this anyway?”
“I know my world. Justice won’t be enough for them, they’ll want revenge. And you know what, Julie? You’ll be their best and easiest means of getting it.” He takes a slight pause, takes a breath then adds, “Just like the last time.”
Hearing that last bit hits me like a bolt of lightning to the chest. There’s no pain, just a shocking jolt hitting me so hard I can’t speak. Something about the way he said it tells me clearly that this was the real reason he left me. I have no other reason to think that, but I know it all the same.
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then focuses on the horizon, looking far into the distance.
“What are you telling me?” I ask in a cracked voice. I’m not sure I want to hear this.
“It all came down to keeping you safe,” he says.
“How?” My head’s spinning. Literally.
“When your father found out about us and how serious we were, the gloves came off, Julie. You probably don’t know, but your father’s business and my uncle’s MC have always had a close relationship, going back decades. He gave us jobs and covered our tracks, and we did security for him and made sure he got most of the deals he wanted. It all ran smoothly until you and me happened,” he says, and my head just keeps spinning worse and worse. “He decided to ride that into breaking the partnership. He decided to use it to get the land he always wanted and destroy us in the process, if he had to.”
“So it was about more than just the land?” I ask, although that’s by far no
t the only question flashing through my mind. It’s not even the most important one. But it’s the only one I can face right now.
He shrugs. “I knew he wanted that land and I knew my father wouldn’t sell it to him. I also always suspected me and you weren’t the real issue. He could’ve broken us up in other ways, he didn’t have to mix business into it. I suspected he just wanted to end the partnership and take up with the Sinners, the other MC in the area, instead.” He pauses to take a deep, shuddering breath. “But that’s not the whole story. When he first came against us hard, firing our guys and threatening all sorts of shit, a lot of the members wanted to go hard in retaliation. Most of those plans involved you, and none of them were good. My dad talked my uncle out of that line of thinking. But then he got stabbed and me leaving you, me getting out of your life completely and for good, suddenly became the only way to keep you safe. I spoke up about it, told my uncle he can’t let your father and the Sinners mess with us that way, but he wouldn’t hear about striking back. I was told to pack up and leave you behind, and your father agreed that would solve everything. It didn’t in the end. But it kept you safe, and knowing that was the only thing that kept me sane while I was gone.”
“But your father died,” I murmur. “And your friends, some of them died too.”
He stays silent, just gazing off at the horizon, not looking at me at all anymore.
“We should’ve just left when you first suggested it,” I say. “It’s all my fault, because I wanted to finish school first.”
He’s got so much to blame me for. So very much. Enough to crush even the strongest love. More than enough to. And there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I thought those papers I stole from my father would fix it all, but that’s just gonna make everything worse, I see that now.
“There’s no guarantee that us leaving sooner would’ve prevented any of it,” he says and finally turns to me. I can see the lush green and peaceful forest in his eyes clearly now, because the sun’s already risen, and it’s just as calming and inviting as it ever was. But for some reason, for the reason of what he just told me, the calm forest I always imagine walking into and hiding in when I gaze into his eyes seems so far away right now. Much too far for me to reach.
