by Avelyn Paige
Or anywhere for the matter. The kind of men around here are either way too old or way too poor. Neither of which would serve me any bit of good, when it comes to a paper marriage for the sake of Asher. There are only so many things I would do to get him back, but marrying someone is likely on the bottom of that to-do list.
“I see,” she coolly replies, while the noises from the paper shuffling intensify, only adding more to my annoyance with her.
“Is that a problem suddenly?”
“While it isn’t impossible to adopt as a single parent, the court typically likes placing children in a two-parent home. It provides better structure and a constant level of supervision, during the transitional and bonding phase of an adoption.”
My patience breaks. The bureaucratic bullshit that has come out of this ordeal has given me a healthy reminder why walking the straight and narrow is so hard. My former way of life would have had Asher already in my custody by now with a few threats and an exchange of a wad of cash. Unfortunately, that’s no longer an option, even with Ratchet in town. The Heaven’s Rejects had decided to move away from their underbelly of the world dealings and walk the straight and narrow path for the first time in club history. I doubt even for the sake of an innocent boy with, no ties to their club, would make them stray from it. Not all good deeds are worth time in jail over.
“Are you telling me that after I go through all of this, the courts could decide against me on the basis that I don’t have a husband?”
“It has happened before,” she recalls. “With his age, and your intent on returning to California after the adoption goes through, the state is quite strict on the requirements. Legally, I cannot advise you to marry, but it would help your case.”
“I can’t believe this,” I growl into the receiver.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Delmont, but I really have to get to my meeting. Please call me as soon as you have made your payment to the clerk’s office, and I’ll get the ball rolling on my end.”
Before I can even respond, she hangs up the phone. My head hangs as I sob into my hands with the phone still pressed to my ear. I thought that getting fired was the biggest of my worries today, but that has been shoved into the meaningless bullshit pile in comparison to my caseworker’s revelation.
Marriage. An institution that I barely believe in, and in order to get my brother; they want me to find a man to check the box. This is so fucking unfair. Of all the things they could have asked of me, it had to be this. Something that would require me to sell my body and soul to the highest bidder to satisfy the government’s outdated ideas of how a family structure should be. The only gain would be my brother in return. It’s too much to ask, and makes me feel as if this entire thing was doomed from the start. Maybe this was all a farce of a fantasy, and I was the leading lady of the dramatic interpretation of how life fucks Ricca yet again.
Life has never been easy for me so why did I assume that handing over some cash would give me my brother. The outdated family values of the Midwest were going to fuck me over, and my only choice was to take the licks they give me and keep trying, until there was no other option left. I’ve sold myself to the devil far too many times in the past, to even remotely consider doing it again even if it was for a good cause.
My mind swirls and starts to pound with the beginnings of a headache. I lean my head against the warm leather of the steering wheel and close my eyes. Focusing on my breathing, I try to force my body to relax. I feel a shift to a more relaxed state after nearly thirty minutes of quiet. The headache still lingers, but relaxing has helped ease the sudden pains from tension and stress. Just as I start to lift my forehead from the steering wheel, a loud knock on the glass and the rattling of the handle startles me upright.
“What the fuck!” I scream out. My eyes wild from shock. They finally focus, and I find Ratchet glaring from outside of my door.
He raps his knuckles against the glass again, motioning with his hands for me to roll down the window. I hesitate momentarily, but decide that he’d just break it if I didn’t.
“It’s not safe to take a nap on the side of the road, Siren,” he coarsely declares. His eyes search my face, analyzing my every feature for injury. Whenever he’s around, I always feel like I am a slide underneath a microscope, like you see on television. It’s as if he is trying to look into my black soul and find something unexpectedly there.
His gaze makes me uneasy, and with my unease comes my mistimed attempt at humor to diffuse the tension and break the silence.
“I’ll nap where I want, Ratchet. Without your permission.”
I roll my eyes at his incorrect evaluation of the situation laid out in front of him, and he growls again.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Siren. You know I don’t like that shit.”
I do it again just to spite him, before he reaches inside though the open window and pulls up the lock. He rips open the door. I try to scout away from his grasp, but I don’t make it in time. His large, calloused hands grasp me and begin to pull me out of the truck. I try to fight him, but I know it’ll only make what’s coming worse. When Ratchet wants something or someone, he doesn’t give up. Evident enough by the fact that he tracked me down to Kentucky. No additional proof required.
As rough as it might look to someone on the outside, he’s surprisingly way gentler than Big Joe was early this morning. My hips hit the edge of the bench seat of the truck, before he stops. He releases my arms and goes for my feet, pulling them to my left and out of the car. Ratchet watches me, looking for what is likely a sign of panic, before he reaches inside the truck and removes the keys from the ignition. He slides them into his back pocket, before returning his attention back on me.
“I’m tired of the cat and mouse game, Siren. It’s time we had a little talk.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest, putting a barrier between us. As much as I want to reach out and touch him, I can’t give into temptation. Not yet. Not when my association with a biker and his club, could affect my already slim chances of getting Asher.
“Not sure there’s much to talk about,” I respond sharply. “I left and you seem to be following me. That about sum it up?”
Ratchet hisses at the sting of my words. His hands jolt from his sides as his fingers wrap about my hips. He uses his strength to pull me all the way out of the truck to my feet. My chest crashes into him and my body instantly reacts to his closeness. The warmth of arousal begins to build at my core.
My eyes lift up to his and that fucking smirk forms on his face again.
“You didn’t just run, Siren. You left for a reason, and I want to know why.”
I try to cast my eyes downwards again, but his fingers pull my gaze back onto his face.
“I just left, okay. I needed to get away from the violence of the club,” I mutter.
“Bullshit. You have never been a good liar to begin with, but even that was pathetic. I want the truth. Try again.”
I try to shove away from him, but he grips me even tighter.
“Fine, you want the truth?” I yell at him. “I met someone else.”
“Strike two, Siren. No man with any claim to you would ever let you out of his sight. A lessoned I’ve recently learned myself.” he growls. “Last chance.”
“I left because I felt trapped by you,” I retort. “I couldn’t breathe when you were around. I needed to put distance between us.” My heart aches as the last word slips from my lips. As hard as I tried to forget him, I couldn’t, and spilling those half-truths hurt me more than it would hurt him.
His eyes narrow, before he slowly moves his face closer to mine.
“Strike three. You didn’t run from me. You can pretend to believe that horse shit all you want, but your body is telling me a completely different story. I can sense your arousal, Ricca. Your goose bumps and flushed cheeks are giving away your lack of indifference.”
Pretend to hate him. It’ll be easier to apologize to him
later, than to face the consequences of having him here now. Just do it, Ricca. It’s for the best.
I force myself to smile and laugh back at him. He cocks his head at me, trying to figure out the source of sudden emotional change.
“We fucked Ratchet, and it was great. Just because my body liked the things you did to me doesn’t mean that I am yours. We scratched an itch that was a long time coming, and I moved on. End of story.”
“Bullshit,” he protests. “Keep telling yourself those lies, Siren. You might just start believing them.”
“It not a lie ─ I stammer, before his mouth crashes onto mine. His tongue parts my lips as my unwillingness to give into his kiss melts away. He kisses me like he’s gone for years without a drink of water, and I am the only fountain who can quench his thirst. My tongue slips out of my mouth and begins to caress his. A soft moan escapes my lips as his hands fall onto my hips, before reaching under my ass. His fingers dig into my flesh when he lifts me back onto the truck seat, putting my jean-clad pussy against his rock-hard erection. I nearly moan from the feeling of him being so close to me and wrap my legs around his waist.
The contact alone brings back the memories from that night we shared together, and it sends vibrations of warmth tingling all over my body, crashing back to me. Our entangled limbs. The heat of our bodies moving together. The screams ripping out of my mouth as he brought me to my third orgasm in a single fuck session. Each memory sends a more intense wave of arousal crashing into my core.
My legs wrap around his waist tighter, forcing my pussy harder against his cock as the kiss continues. He removes his mouth from mine trailing kisses along my jaw, and then he licks down my neck.
“You’re mine, Siren,” he whispers against my neck. His breath ragged. “Mine.”
His mouth travels lower toward the top of my breast. My head falls back as he inches closer to my pebbled nipples. A soft moan escapes my lips, when he reaches the edge of my bra, just as the horn of a car blows as it passes us.
“Get a room,” someone from the car yells at us, breaking the moment.
Ratchet smiles at me as I lean my face against his chest, hiding my embarrassment. My body shakes with a mixture of over stimulation from the ensuing battle of arousal, excitement, and fear inside of me. I was so close to giving it all to him on the side of the road, regardless of everything else I have been through and still going through.
With one kiss, I sealed my fate.
I just invited the Devil back into my life with the master key to my heart.
I am so fucked.
In hindsight, letting her drive off after the incident at the diner wasn’t my best idea. Hell, it didn’t even register on the top one hundred good ideas list. I knew watching her drive away that she was pissed, and I needed to leave her alone, but at the same time, her call was blaring for me to track her down. I leaned against my bike for nearly twenty minutes in an internal battle with myself about whether or not to go after her, before I finally made my decision. In her state of mind, she could be dangerous to herself as well as others on the road. When Ricca lets her anger and fear get the best of her, she has been known to lash out at innocent people around her. Myself included. It was better for me to become the asshole once again, than to watch her fall apart after fucking her life up again.
For once, my brain had a good fucking idea because as soon as I saw her truck pulled off to the side of the road, my heart started to race. I’d have patted myself on my back, but I could feel the pain she was in.
She didn’t even budge as I approached the truck, but her reaction told me it all. She was scared and frustrated. Something else had happened in the time since she left the dinner. I tried to keep myself in check, but the line of questioning poured out of me like I didn’t know how to shut the fuck up. I could see her pain and frustration with every lie that came from her mouth, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to feel her lips on mine.
I don’t know why I did it, but having her leaning against my chest right now felt right. For the first time since I road into this tiny ass town, she let me in. Well, I shoved myself in, but she didn’t kick my ass back out again. This was the kind of moment I needed to embrace, before her walls came hurdling back up again and effectively locking me outside in the cold. It was a win that I was proud to claim in my column.
She nuzzles against me as I start to feel my shirt become wet and notice her quiet sobs.
Tears.
That’s not exactly the reaction I expected after such a fucking good kiss, but with her, I’ll take her tears instead of her running away from me again. The dark side of me wanted to taste her tears, while a tiny part of me wanted to actually be a decent human being and comfort her. It’s fucked up, but what else is new for me.
“You okay, Siren?” I whisper against her ear. Her body instantly tenses again.
So much for relaxed. Why do I feel like she is about to shut me out all over again?
“I’m fine,” she sobs, pushing away from my chest and wiping her tear-stained face. “Listen, Ratchet—.”
I place my fingers on her lips, hushing her. She’s about to tell me some reason why this can’t work. Another lie. Her reaction from the kiss tells me she wants me, but her heart or mind is resisting the idea. Her eyes widen, when I hush her again.
“Unless you’re telling me to stay, I don’t want to hear it. I know that kiss changes nothing, but I’d like just one more good moment with you, before it all goes to hell again.”
She blinks without saying a word.
“I know you have your reasons for being here, but you owe me the truth. The whole truth, Ricca. Not some sugarcoated fucking lie. And until you can give me that, I am willing to wait.”
I watch as Ricca’s body shivers in response to mine, while she hopefully processes what I just said. I waited six months for this woman. A few more days wouldn’t kill me or so I hoped.
“Just tell me you’ll think about letting me in, Siren. I did ride all this way out here to see you,” I say to her, running my thumb across her cheek as a stray tear slides down. She smiles at my joke. A genuine smile that doesn’t hold back pain and misery behind her swollen, just kissed lips.
“I did lie to you,” she starts before hesitating. “And I’m sorry for that, but I need space and time, Ratchet.”
I consider her words internally before answering. One wrong phrase and I would be putting this all at risk because I hurt her.
Think of a solution, fucker. Equal ground. No ultimatums.
“I can live with the time, but the space is a hard no.” I demand, squeezing her closer. “I want nothing between us. Not even air should be able to slip between my grasp of you.”
Congratulations, shit head. You just broke the no ultimatums rule.
She gulps and blushes at my terms. Her attempt at holding me at arm’s length ends today. I may be dealing her a hand that she may not be willing to play just yet, but space isn’t going to make her lay it all down on the table and bet against me.
“Is this about your mom?”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t pry,” she rebukes, shoving my own words back at me.
“I said I was willing to wait, Siren. I didn’t say a damn thing about not asking questions.”
She huffs and uses her hands to put space between us.
“Do you actually think I am here to mourn that cunt of a woman?” she sharply declares. “I’m happy she’s gone.”
I must have hit a nerve. While I do admit to a bit of curiosity about the relationship with her mother, that’s not exactly what I am here to find out. The sheer fact that she called her mother a cunt was a big enough clue to tell me she hated the woman. A suspicion I had from the very beginning. With everything that she had gone through over the years, you would have thought that she would have clung to a familial connection had there been a good relationship there to bring her peace. Yet, she didn’t. She stayed with the club who saved her and
with me. Maybe I was just a source of protection for her, but I felt more between us.
“And what the fuck does that mean exactly?”
She fidgets in her seat trying to stall me, but it doesn’t work. My eye is on my prize, and she won’t be able to wiggle away that easily when I am so close to getting my answers.
“Time’s a wasting, Siren. Tell me the truth.”
“Fine,” she huffs, turning her beautiful eyes toward me. “My mom is part of the reason I’m here, but she’s not the reason I stayed.”
I stare deeply into her eyes, silently pleading with her to continue, but her phone interrupts us. She sighs in what I can imagine is an outwardly display of relief for cutting this conversation short. She reaches behind her, patting the seat for her phone. Her eyes widen when she looks at the screen.
“Shit,” she curses, before silencing her phone. “I have to go.”
“Hot date?” I tease her, before I realize that she is being dead serious on her need to leave. She looks to her phone again as it chimes once more. She mutters underneath her breathe, but I can’t make out what she says. She starts to use force to move me. I firmly stand my ground, and I don’t give her an inch of back peddling. Ricca may not be the tiniest woman on the planet, but even she can’t move me that easily. Tough girl or not, I don’t move unless I want to move.
“Ratchet,” she yells. “Fucking move already. I need to leave.”
“I don’t fucking think so, Siren. We still have some talking to do.”
She drops her phone and begins to swivel into the truck. She goes for the ignition, before remembering that I have her keys. Something I don’t regret doing since she’s trying to run again.
Not today, Siren. This doesn’t end her after that kiss. You want this just as much as I do.
“Give me my keys, Ratchet,” she coarsely demands, I watch as the wheels in her head start to turn as she looks for a way out of the situation, that likely doesn’t result in her having to hot wire the damn truck. A skill I’m almost certain she has in her toolbox.
