Holding On

by A. C. Bextor

  “Shut your fucking mouth!” That’s all I hear coming from Shame as he throws himself shoulder first into Greyson. Shame has Greyson on the ground sitting astride him and is beating his face with one hand and holding his fingers around his neck with the other, successfully cutting off Greys oxygen. I only see the back of Shames cut but I can hear the gurgling coming from Greyson. Finally regaining some composure I crawl my way to them and scream for Shame to stop. Not because Greyson may have had this coming but because Shame will kill him if he continues this brutal beating.

  I grab Shames arm, the one currently closing my fiancés throat. “Shame stop, please. You will kill him. STOP!” Nothing registers to his rage so I grab Shames face which is now covered with Grayson’s blood. “Shame, please.”

  Now I’m talking quietly, pleading, but at least he has turned his focus to me now. With anger still raging inside, he turns from me to lower his face to Grayson’s getting very close to him. I watch Greyson roll his eyes with evident pain.

  “If you ever insult or mistreat her like this again you pussy assed cock sucker on my account or anyone else’s, I will kill you brother and I won't make it quick. It is a promise to be full of pain. Get your face out of my sight before I finish you now, you piece of shit.”

  Shame steps off Greyson, spits on him then comes towards me. Immediately my eyes turn to saucers and I’m actually scared. I’m in no way afraid of Shame, but I’m afraid for Greyson who just continues to lay there and gargle in his own blood.

  Shame grabs my hand, then my back, and presses me to him while looking me over inch by inch. He thinks he hurt me physically during his path to get to Greyson. I can see the cogs of his mind working, his past chasing him as he remembers his father beating both he and his mother and the aftermath it created.

  “I’m okay, Shame.” His face relaxes in stark relief. Grabbing my legs from under me, he holds me to him and tells me to wrap my legs around his hips. He lifts me in his arms and has me pressed into him tightly.

  “God dammit, Mace. He doesn’t deserve you. No one deserves you.”

  He’s breathing heavily into my ear from exhaustion from walking briskly while carrying me back to the house and the residual anger from his fight with Grey.

  “I don’t think that man understands a fucking thing about you, does he? Does he know what a lucky bastard he is to just have you near him? You’re so much good, you’ve got a heart made for only a Saint to love, so much good, Mace. Hearing him talk to you like that when he said...wait…hold the fuck up... Mace...MACE, you flinched. You were in my arms and held tight to against my fucking body and you still fucking flinched because of him.”

  He stops, puts me down, grabs my face with his hands. “People do not fucking flinch if they are not scared. You were scared back there, weren’t you? What the fuck, Mace? Has he touched you? Has he hurt you? Fucking TELL ME.”

  He starts to turn around and walk back to a struggling Greyson who from what I can see is starting to sit up now after his beating. I grab onto his arm to stop him.

  “Let me go check on him, Shame. You’ve bloodied him good and he needs medical attention.” I’m arguing with air. I’m being ignored.

  “ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION! Has. He. Hurt. You?”

  His arms are up in the air as he says this and his words are so powerful and full of anger. I know I can’t lie to him because Shame knowing me how he does, will just call me on the lie and this isn’t what I want to think about while Hem is at the house with Mom and Warren. Another storm I’m sure is brewing there between those two.

  “No, Shame. He hasn’t hurt my physically. I’m fine okay? He just took me by surprise because I’ve never seen him that angry before. Please take me home.” I run to him and jump back into his arms without him expecting that but he catches me, both hands on my ass this time but if it distracts him from going back and finishing Greyson off he can have my ass in his hands.

  He keeps walking now and over his shoulder I can see the seethe in anger rolling off of Greyson as he stares at me and mouths the word ‘whore’. That hurt even more than I wanted it to and coming from him and all he had just said, I’m surprised it still hurts.

  Chapter Four:

  “For we have thought the longer thoughts and gone the shorter way. And we have danced to devils' tunes, Shivering home to pray; to serve one master in the night, another in the day.”

  --Ernest Hemingway

  I wake to hear raised voices. It takes me a few minutes to register where I’m at, then I remember the events of yesterday. Mom is dying. I didn’t even tell her goodbye yesterday before I left the house.

  Shame had talked to Hem outside in the yard after I insisted that I wanted to go home, all the while he had refused to put me down, so I kept my legs wrapped around him and my arms around his neck, holding tightly. Hem had asked Shame where he had left Greyson. Shame told him he was bloodied somewhere down near our lake so most likely Greyson was about to get another visit from a very pissed off Biker Hem.

  Shame wouldn’t let me go home afterwards. He didn’t want me sitting there all night crying with Sadey, he seems to think women can only eat Oreos and sit around desperate when we are upset. Either way, he brought me back to the Clubhouse and took me straight to his room.

  I was hesitant to discuss sleeping arrangements with him. I was already emotionally drained and didn’t want to argue with him when I told him I wanted to sleep in bed, alone. After a brief debate he accepted that I wasn’t budging and said he would take in some sleep on the couch in the common room. I felt bad considering the action that couch has seen, but I needed to rest.

  Sometime in the night though, Shame must have stopped caring so much about my request because when I woke to feel the bed dip I knew it was him. It’s that smell he has, I would know it from anywhere.

  He climbed in the bed and pulled me to him, my back to his front and held me close. He didn’t make a move other than to just hold me closer when he felt as though I was trying to get away. Not one of my muscles moved under his hold, I was exactly where I wanted to be. It felt like home.

  I know I have to go back to my house today. I sit up taking inventory of my appearance. I’m in Shames shirt the he wore yesterday and my panties. I nabbed it from the floor after he left for the couch last night. I may not have wanted a bed guest but being wrapped up in his old undershirt made me feel like I wasn’t alone.

  Finally I get up and I dart to Shames en suite bathroom, if that’s what this qualifies to be labeled. At the Club, they all have their own rooms, but these aren’t anything to write home about. They are men, they live like men, and definitely they definitely smell like men. Rinsing my mouth with wash and combing my fingers through my hair that I slept wet on, I decide to just give up. I’m a walking hot mess. I gather myself by putting my jeans from the floor even though still feel wet from last night, then make my way to the kitchen. This is where all the raised voices were coming from.

  “Well Princess, there you are.” Hem’s tone is laced with malice, for me. Not good.

  “Good morning, big brother.” I’m testing waters in attempts to gauge on my Mace scale just how pissed he is at me so I’m trying to act endearing.

  “What the fuck is this?” He growls out at me quickly.

  He throws me an envelope and after it hits my chest it drops to the floor. I freeze, shocked by his actions and look around. In the room I’m searching for any eyes that look friendly or familiar, but in this moment I see only anger, especially coming from Gunner. He’s the prospect that is about to patch in with Ace and if looks could kill, well... you know.

  “What’s wrong?” Again, testing waters. No good.

  “Take a look! Why would I find that inside Grayson’s home, Mace? I went there last night and paid him a visit just as a follow up payback on my behalf regarding his scene with you yesterday and after knocking him out on his ass cold, I thought I should do a little clean up around his place, check him out and be sure his intentions with yo
u are on the up and up, only to find these!”

  I bend down to scoop up the offending envelope then I open it to find pictures of Warren and Greyson. They are sitting in a bar, I cannot place which bar but I know I have been there before. To the right of Warren, I see Hood. The VP of the rival MC ‘Angels in Hell’ who share local space and turf with Peril. I’m speechless and I don’t understand.

  “What? You think I know what this is?”

  Shame is standing beside me, looking at me with concern but it’s not the same concern I’m getting from Hem. Hem is pissed at me. “You think I know about this, don’t you? Tell me brother that you don’t actually think I’m part of this?”

  “Well, he is your dad, Mace. I find these in your fiancé’s house. A place you willingly lay down your body for that piece of shit man of yours. This is quite alarming considering you fuck him freely, or does he pay you to fuck him good, Sis?”

  “Enough!” Shame shouts at Hem.

  “I don't know anything about this, you don’t believe me though. If I did know Hem, I would have questioned Greyson and Dad. This could be just a matter of circumstance.” More anger coming my way.

  “God you're either incredibly stupid or just naive. Either way, I don't care. Switch had Hood kill Doc. We know it, everyone fucking knows it and there’s your man and your dad sitting there with him like long lost friends having a cup of fucking English Goddamn Tea! Never thought I would see the day your dear old Dad was playing for the other team, a dirty MC. All the years of torment I had to endure from that man about decisions I made to become what I am, with Doc. Doc loved me, Mace. Doc was the father I searched my whole miserable fucking life for. He meant everything to me. He was taken all because he was defending the right to run a clean Club and now I see your father and your fiancé engaged in some chit chat with him. Nothing good comes of this. Not a Goddamn thing.”

  “I’m sorry Hem but I can’t explain what I don’t know.” My eyes are welling with unshed tears and all the spectators have left the room, thank hell. I can hear Gunner shuffling behind me though. He’s standing next to Shame now.

  Hem gets up from his seat at the bar, walks toward me with purpose. Shame immediately steps in front of me and pushes Hem’s chest.

  “Brother, walk away. Do not do this. You don’t know shit, only seen the pictures and we do not know the circumstance. Mace is right, I believe her. She doesn’t know anything. Walk away and we will talk about it later when you have cooled.”

  Hem is so angry at me. “Are you fucking her too? She yield some magic pussy? Because you of all people Shame should be just as livid about this as I am. This has everything to do with her!” Hems face is now wrinkled in anger at both Shame and I.

  “Shut the fuck up, man. You’re angry and you are hurting her. Get the fuck out of here and calm the fuck down before you say something that you can’t take back, if you haven’t already.”

  Shame gives him a small shove in his chest and a nod, I can see his jaw clenching in anticipation of going head to head with Hem. That thought really does scare the shit of out me.

  Gunner tugs on the back of Hems cut then pats his shoulder to pull him out of his angry state. Gunner still scowling at me, but at least he’s calming Hurricane Hem. I am thankful for him right now, scowl or not.

  Hem backs away with his hands up in disgust and surrender. “We aren’t done talking, Sis. This isn’t over. Gunner, let’s ride.” Gunner follows him like a puppy dog looking for his next chew toy.

  They call him Gunner cause he insists on riding in the back of the riding chain as the tail gunner, but looking at him now, he not only rides behind them, he friggin’ follows them in every aspect. Haven’t ever really had a conversation with the man, but seeing that he hates me now I won’t have to worry about him and I catching up later to talk about the weather.

  After Hem walks out of the room, Shame turns to me. Touching my face, shoulders, and back. Again, always checking to see that I’m alright.

  “I’m okay Shame, I’m fine. Nothing a few hateful words from my brother to just make my day brighter.” The tears that I have been holding start to fall and Shame swipes them with his thumb.

  “You can’t go back to him now, Mace. You know this right?” He’s looking at me questioning what my answer to this will be.

  “Yes, I do have to go back. There are things left unsaid between him and me. I owe him an explanation and he owes me one for these pictures, as well as his reaction yesterday. I can’t just never go back there. He’s my finance. I love him.”

  I do, don’t I? Even after seeing the pictures there, scattered on the floor, I can’t convict him without further evidence he’s dealing with the Angels. Can I? I’m so confused.

  “If you’re going back, I’m going with you. You are not his, not after what happened last night. You’re not going back to belonging to him, Mace. It is not happening. I can’t send my kid sister into that place knowing the anger he has for Hem and I, he has anger for you too Mace, a fuck of a lot of it. You saw his face yesterday; you know the fucking fury that was coming off of him. This may blow over kid, but until it does and we have a logical explanation about these pictures you are staying here, with me.”

  “Your kid sister” I mumble not thinking he can hear it.

  “Your kid sister?” I repeat in my snarky tone. Well good, now I’m finding my voice again.

  Shame whips his head around to me, starts to speak, and then closes his mouth. Good option, pal.

  “You don’t get to put your tongue in my mouth then call me your sister a handful of days later. I’m either your sister or I’m not Shame.”

  “Stop, just wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I was saying…I…” He’s trying hard compose himself and not stutter.

  “Saying what exactly? You still view me as a child don’t you? You still think of me as that sad little girl from prom, poor poor Mace. Her date cancelled last minute so you felt sorry for me and carried me away and saved the day. I don’t need saving, Shame. I may not know exactly what I need or who I need, but it’s not you!”

  We are standing alone in the common area of the compound and after Hem’s reaction to my presence this morning I really just want to leave, not sit here with Mr. Mood Swing and dwell on heartbreaking memories of the former sap, teenage Mace.

  “Hem, he really didn’t tell you did he?” He’s smirking now and it adds to my exasperation. That damn lip ring staring at me again.

  “I really thought after all these years he would have told you about it, that night I mean. He was so pissed at what I had done, yet the man still kept his word and didn’t tell you, even all these years later. That’s funny. All this time, you never found out about that night of your Junior Prom.” He’s chuckling now and I’m growing impatient.

  “Tell me what? No idea what you’re talking about now. You’re all over the place, big brother.” That’s right, take my jab. Tit for Goddamn tat big guy.

  His face grows serious after my brother comment. He’s nearly sneering at me, “Your date cancelled, yes he sure did. He cancelled because I scared the little shit. Told him he lost his date to prom and not only had he lost his date, he wasn’t going to the dance at all. He was going to sit his ass at home that night, alone. Saw him at the corner store in town; there was an opportunity so I took it. Poor guy literally pissed himself in front of me but lucky him, he got the message I was sending and being that I was not vague about his outcome if he didn’t do exactly what I told him, it was good damn thing he heard me. I was your date from the start, Sweetheart. Sick though it may be, I was not going to let anyone touch you, no one but me.”

  My head is spinning. All my young life I had longed to be with Shame. Too young to identify exactly in what way I wanted to be with him, but I just knew I did.

  “You meant to take me to my prom from the beginning? Why not just tell me that back then Shame?”

  “Cause I was a 28 year old grown man, Mace. You were a 16 year old kid. Bad enough that I knew I
wanted you then, but to admit it out loud in front of God and everyone, fuck no. Fuck no! But no way was I leaving you to a pimple face punk to get inside you and not even know what the fuck he was going to do to you once he got there. Fuck. No.”

  “What does this mean, Shame? I’m still like a little sister to you, you just said so yourself. All of my life I have been a kid to you. Then you kissed me, and I thought I was confused about that, but now I’m really confused!” I’m baiting him, not cool, but it is what it is as he likes to say.

  “You are mine. You’ve been mine since you took those training wheels off that pink bike of yours and fell at my feet. Never even cried, you didn’t. Just sat on my lap trusting that I had you. Well I have you now, baby. You’re grown up, you’re a woman, and you’re mine. Mine. You can take some time to come to terms with this, but you will be wasting it. Greyson needs to go the fuck away. He’s not fucking touching you again, nothing touches what is mine and I’m telling you right now that’s what you are.”

  Both his hands fold onto my face, grabbing me and pulling me towards his he softens at the touch, leaning his forehead onto mine.

  “Say something, Sweetheart. Please say something, anything.” He’s pleading.

  Before I can muster another thought he leans in and sucks my bottom lip gently. He’s waiting for my response, verbal or otherwise but I’m lost in his scent and touch. All the last weeks’ emotions are whirling into my head. My mom dying, Grayson’s laying there bloodied at the hands of Shame, the pictures of Warren and Greyson’s betrayal, and Hem being so angry at me. The man I crushed on as a child, lusted after as a teenager, and loved as an adult just told me I am his. It’s poetic, almost. Some of the most beautiful poems are about heartache though, right?