Absolution (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 3)

by Avelyn Paige

  “You aren’t your mother, and you are the only person in the world who understands the hell he’s gone through. It may be weird at first, but with time, you’ll heal those wounds left by her.”

  Ricca told me the dirty details of her life with her mother, one night after work. Just as we had settled into bed, she started to have one of her nightmares. I held her for hours as she poured her heart out to me about her childhood. I lulled her back to sleep, but I couldn’t sleep after that. I lay there thinking of how her mother used her body for currency and gifts, and it sickened me. It takes a lot for someone to shock me, and knowing that she survived that piss poor upbringing, gave me hope that nothing else in the world could stop her from outliving us all. She was much stronger than she realized, and I would make her see that in time.

  “You think so?” she questions, wiping her tears against my naked chest, before looking back up at me.

  “Yes, I am. When someone has the same life experiences as you do, there’s this bond between you. It’s like a kindred spirit kind of thing. Just like the two of us. Neither of us has had the greatest lives, but look at us now. We’re together, and still breathing.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” she agrees.

  “I know I’m right.”

  “What if I do end up like her?” she sheepishly asks.

  “You won’t,” I assure her. “You’ve come too far to ever be like her. Besides if you do, I’ll rescue you like I did before.”

  She smiles, and playfully punches me in the stomach.

  “You just think you walk on water, don’t you?” she teases, with a flicker of her light refilling her eyes again.

  “As long as I have you, I can do anything. Even walk on water.”

  “You’re so full of shit that you might just float.”

  She begins to giggle, and the sound of her happiness again makes me laugh. Her smile beams brighter than the moon, and since we came home, she finally feels at ease.

  “I love you,” I whisper against her lips, before I lay a kiss on them.

  “I love you,” she replies. The silence of the room settles around us, and not long after, her breaths become shallow. I hold her while she sleeps, and finally allow the darkness to take me under.

  “Get up, Ratchet,” she yells at me from the bathroom. “We over slept!”

  I roll over and look at the clock. Sure enough, it’s only an hour before we’re due at the courthouse, and we have at least a thirty-minute drive ahead of us.

  Rolling out of bed, I stretch my stiff muscles and she huffs her displeasure of how slow I am moving. I stalk to the bathroom, and find her quickly throwing make-up on her face with her hair still up in the messy bun from last night.

  “I like you like this,” I whisper against her neck as I wrap my bare arms around her.

  “Not now. Go get dressed.”

  I scoff at her, but she swats me and I pad out of the bathroom. There’s no use in fighting with her today. This is it. Our point of no return. Either we can move forward with the process of gaining custody of her brother, or we’re dead in the water.

  I step back into the bedroom, and grab the new clothes that I picked up, while she was at work. Her demand to fix the truck covered my tracks to take care of this one last detail for today. Little did she know, the truck had been done for a few days, but I liked having her on the back of my bike too much to give it back to her just yet. Call me selfish, but that’s how I am with her. Every moment I get with her, whether she is chewing me out or giving her body to me, is a moment I cherish.

  It doesn't take me long to finish getting ready, and when I step out of the room, her eyes bug out.

  “Wow,” she utters. “You, um, clean up nice.”

  I look down at my blue button-up shirt, and khakis and smile. The look on her face is approval enough to know that I did okay picking out this monkey get-up. I smile thinking back to the storeowner’s face, when I walked in asking for dress clothes. It’s not every day that a guy like me walks into a place like that. I also learned that finding a shirt that would fit my larger upper body was not as easy as I thought. This is why I stick with t-shirts.

  “I could say the same for you.”

  Ricca’s hair is up in a smooth, sophisticated bun. Her curves are on display in the simple black dress that hugs her in all the right places. The heels on her feet only accentuated her shapely legs and ass. Had this not been important, I would have probably helped her right out of that dress and into my lap. But that will have to wait for later.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she demands, while grabbing her purse off the bar. “No way.”

  “I didn’t say a thing, but now that you mention it.”

  “No, Ratchet.”

  “Later then,” I promise her.

  She laughs her way right out the door, and at my protest, we take the truck. While I would usually prefer to drive, she needs the distraction more than I do.

  We make it to the old grey stone courthouse a few towns over with a few minutes to spare. It takes us less than no time to make it through the metal detectors at the front of the entrance, and before I know it, we’re standing in the hall.

  We take the stairs up to the third floor where the family court is located, and find her caseworker lingering in the hallway. As soon as she spots us, she walks right over to us.

  “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Azzo. Are you ready for this?”

  Hearing Ricca being called Mrs. Azzo makes me smile. She notices and throws a side-ways glare back at me.

  “As I’ll ever be,” she answers Nicole.

  “Is there anything we should know before going into this?” I inquire.

  “This hearing will be very basic. The judge will review your application, and any additional paperwork that you included in with the application. The judge may ask for additional details such as employment or assets, but other than that, it should be pretty straightforward. Judge McCain is pretty evenly fair, so you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

  The doors of the courtroom open and a large group of people tumble out into the hallway. Ricca’s hand comes to her chest as her anxiety strikes.

  Coming up behind her, I pull her against me.

  “Just breathe, Siren. I’m right here,” I whisper to her. “Just breathe.”

  She practices the breathing exercises that she was given to do back in her California group therapy session, and as the last person exits, her breathing slows.

  Nicole waves for us to follow her. Ricca reaches back and grabs my hand tightly.

  “Together, nothing can stop us,” she repeats from our conversation last night.

  She starts to walk into the room with me in tow. The courtroom is completely covered in a dark colored wood. Each side of the room has a table for each party, and the judge sits at the center. An older woman sits to his left with a typewriter in front of her.

  A man walks towards us, and Nicole hands him a stack of papers. He flips through them, before handing them up to the judge.

  “Case Number one-six-seven-nine-two, regarding the custody of Asher Harrison Delmont,” the man calls out to the empty room.

  The judge reads through our application a page at a time, and with each flip, Ricca grows more nervous at my side. His lips move as he’s reading, while his face remains un-animated.

  “Everything looks to be in order here, Miss Wild. Are these two the candidates in question seeking to adopt this child?”

  Nicole steps forward, and waves us to join her at her side.

  “Yes, your honor. This is Mr. and Mrs. Jude Azzo. Mrs. Azzo is Mr. Delmont’s sister.”

  The judge looks up, and eyes Ricca.

  “There seems to be quite an age difference between the child in question and his sister. Could you please explain that, Mrs. Azzo?”

  Ricca shakes as he calls on her to answer, but I squeeze her hand tighter.

  “My mother had me at a very young age, your honor.
I wasn’t what you would call a planned pregnancy.”

  “I see,” he observes. “I also see here that you have never meet Mr. Delmont and are requesting visitation. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, your honor,” she answers, gaining confidence with each word. “I did not know about him, until my mother’s passing. She and I have been estranged for several years.”

  “Hmm,” he mumbles. “This is your husband?”

  “Yes, your honor,” I answer.

  “I don’t seem to have any employment information listed for you here, Mr. Azzo. Do you currently hold employment?”

  I release Ricca’s hand, and straighten my posture. The judge watches me, analyzing my every move.

  “I do, your honor. I work for a private security company back in California, and I also do mechanic work on the side.”

  “Good,” he utters. “Do you intend to move back to California should this custody motion be granted?”

  Ricca looks to me. While we had never talked about it, it has always been my intention to go back. We didn’t have a reason to stay here, if Asher was going with us. Our support system and lives are back there in Upland, but if she wants to stay, I’d do it for her.

  I nod back to her, putting that decision in her court. Whether we stayed or we went back, we do it together.

  “Yes, your honor. We do intend to go back to California.”

  The judge nods his head in acknowledgement of her answer.

  “I am ready to my make decision.”

  Ricca reaches out again, taking my hand in hers, as we wait for the judge to read us our fate. This is the moment she’s worked so hard for. The moment that decides whether our future is a family of two or a family of three.

  “In the case of Asher Harrison Delmont, I order that temporary supervised visitation be granted. With your intent to return to California, I also order that a home study be completed in California, and pending the results of that study and a DNA test, I will make my decision on permanent custody of the child in question. Court dismissed.”

  Ricca turns towards me, and the biggest smile I have ever seen forms on her face.

  “Did he?” she stutters. “Did I hear that right?”

  “Yes, Siren,” I answer back. “You get to meet Asher.”

  Ricca leaps into my arms, and I carry her out of the courtroom and straight into the truck. Her jubilation lasts the entire way home, and we celebrate our small victory the only way we know how.

  Together.

  “How can they do a home study if we don’t have a fucking home, Ratchet?”

  “My answer didn’t change from the last time you asked, Ricca. It’s taken care of,” He responds in a monotone voice. For days, I have grilled him about how this is all going to work.

  “And you repeating the same damn answer isn’t helping me one bit,” I snap back at him. He fucking laughs in return.

  “It’s not funny, asshole.”

  “Actually Siren, it is a little funny. The house inspection is only a part of the study. They’ll interview our friends and family; check our finances, and our references.”

  I roll my eyes at him. How can he be so relaxed about this? We are about to invite a complete strangers into our lives, and have them analysis every single thing about it. Where we live, which he says he has under control, and all the people in it. Who would recommend us as the references, to parent Asher? Voodoo? Hero? They’d laugh us right out of the courthouse. Our residence is a biker clubhouse filled with club whores and booze. Those two things alone would cement us in the never going to fucking happen category.

  Plus, how does he know all of this crap? He’s like the walking encyclopedia of adoption. For every question, he has an answer. It’s suspicious.

  “And we have all those things?”

  Ratchet smiles back, as he turns left onto the highway. I know that I didn’t agree to this marriage at the beginning, but this laughing bullshit is about to be nipped in the bud. I wonder if he has life insurance.

  “Stop thinking whatever you are thinking right now,” he demands. “I can see those evil wheels turning, and I don’t like that look one bit.”

  “Get out of my brain,” I tease him.

  “I know you’re nervous, but like I keep telling you, everything is covered. You’re going to get your ass on that plane and get things taken care of, while I’m on Asher watch.”

  The thought of flying for the first time alone is nerve-wrecking enough, but with everything else compounded in with it, I am on the brink of exploding in a mess of crazy. It was a miracle that we got a home study scheduled so quickly. Apparently, Darcy had a connection in the local child welfare group, and used it to our advantage. I don’t know what strings that she had to pull, but we owe her big time.

  “Fine, but you don’t miss a day of seeing him at school. I want updates.”

  “Yes, boss,” he mimics me. Ratchet changes lanes like a mad man on the road, not caring about the people driving around us. Louisville may be one of the largest cities in this state, but they sure don’t drive like we do in California. Traffic lights and lines on the road are merely suggestions that hardly any of us follow. A woman speeds by us in the slow lane, flipping Ratchet off in the process.

  “I think she likes you,” I snort.

  He changes lanes a few more times, before the signs for the airport come into view. The dark skies remind me of just how early we had to get up this morning, and after working another night shift at Willie’s, I am completely drained. My only hope of sleeping was on the plane because as soon as I land, I want to hit the ground running. The quicker I get this done, the sooner I get back. Without having a return date in stone, we haven’t been able to set up our visitation with Asher, and I don’t want to delay it a second longer.

  From the moment he decided that it would be me going out to meet the home study coordinator, I began to worry about leaving Asher behind. My father’s threats were clear as crystal, and I ignored them. I waivered last night and nearly told Ratchet of his existence in Asher’s life and his threats, but he would kill him and then me, for hiding it from him. As long as I could get away without telling him, the better off I would be. This would be the last lie I would ever tell him because the wedge it’s driven between us, is suffocating me from the inside out.

  “Why do planes have to leave so early in the morning?” I complain. “Why can’t they leave at a more reasonable hour? Like Noon.”

  “They do leave at noon, but you said you didn’t want to waste a day trying to adjust to the time zone change. No rest for the wicked, Siren.”

  My eyes narrow at his continuous string of digs at this entire escapade. His chipper attitude at this time of morning was already annoying me the moment we left the trailer, but the steady stream of jokes and jabs are wearing my patience thin.

  “We’re here,” he announces as it appears in front of us. The glass dome sparkles in the reflection of the terminal lights, but the entire place is much quieter than I expected for a Wednesday morning. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I look down, I see the alarm I had set to get up to be at the airport. Son of a bitch. We’re over three hours early for my seven forty-five flight.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I bellow. “Ratchet, we’re way too damn early for this flight. The check-in counter probably isn’t even open yet.”

  Ratchet realizes I’m right, and smirks. He eyes the parking lot signs, and sharply turns off to the right onto the exit ramp, away from the departure terminal sidewalk. We twist and turn in the parking garage, until he eyes a spot on the very top level and pulls in.

  “Could you have gone any higher up?” I complain. “There’s hardly any one here.”

  “I know,” he notes with a knowing smile forming on his face. “Seems like the perfect place to give you a proper goodbye.”

  “Here? Are you kidding me right now? We’d be arrested for public indecency if they caught us. You’re crazy,” I
mock him.

  His grin doesn’t change.

  “Get over here Siren,” he demands. “I want to tell my wife goodbye, and I will not take no for an answer.”

  I consider his proposition, and I have to admit the thought of it turns me on a little bit. It seems so juvenile, but at the same time, it feels so forbidden. It is also something that I have never done before. Most people lose their virginities in their first car on an old country road, while they pray someone doesn’t drive by and see them. But not me. My sexual awakening was a completely different nature, and this is a chance to do something normal couples would do. Maybe he isn’t crazy.

  I unbuckle my seatbelt, and watch as his chest begins to move much faster than before. His eyes never leave mine as I shimmy across the seat, and find myself next to him. My hand moves onto his leg, and I give it a few tender squeezes.

  “There’s something a bit farther up that would like to be squeezed,” he suggests.

  “Not yet.”

  “Are you teasing me, wife?”

  “I might be,” I giggle.

  “I might just like it,” he responds. My hand slowly inches up his thigh, before landing on the hard erection growing in his jeans. His head falls back at the sensation of my hand on his cock. My fingers trace the outline of his hardness, teasing him more.

  “That look on your face is positively evil, Siren. I like it,” he growls.

  I allow my fingers to roam toward the fly of his jeans, and slowly pop the button. He grows harder as I tug the latch of the zipper, and start pulling it down. He looks down at my hand with a quizzical look on his face as if this isn’t really happening. What likely was his idea of a joke is about to become a reality.

  My hand reaches inside, and strokes his cock. He shifts in his seat, giving more access. He audibly moans, when all of my fingers wrap around his length, and rubs against him.

  A sound in the garage jerks my hand from his jeans, and my eyes to our surroundings. We both scan the area, but find no one or a single car coming into the area. The idea of someone seeing us sends thick streams of excited arousal, straight to my core.

  “As much as I like where that was going, this isn’t about my pleasure. It’s about yours,” he growls.