The Rage

by Jaci J.

  She’s running toward me and has her hands all over me in a second, searching for, what I’m guessing, is more injuries.

  “Baby. I need you to calm the fuck down,” Shaky fingers run from my cheeks, down my neck. Fuck. She’s strung tight.

  “Oh shit, Rampage,” she gasps as she pulls away the shit tied around my arm. Took a twenty-two to the shoulder, but it’s more of a deep graze. Not the worst shit.

  “Are you okay?” She whispers as her voice shakes. I’m good, but it’s her I’m worried about. She just took out two guys like a fucking hired hit man. “Baby, I need you to calm the fuck down. I’m good. Let’s sit down, okay.”

  ****

  Doc stitched me up. Three sad ass stitches and I was good to go. He pumped Stitch full of the good shit and patched him up, so he’s good. Happy is calm and kicked back with a shot in his hand. Blood and shit isn’t his thing, but when push comes to shove and the shit is necessary, he’ll push back. He’s strange that way, I guess. Squeamish if it’s unnecessary, but all about it when shit needs handled. I guess I can understand that.

  I left Lala in my room with the girls. I wanted her to shower and try to calm the fuck down, not that she was acting crazy or anything. For some strange fucking reason, she seems more worried about me than what happened with her and what she did with that bat. She’s completely unfazed by taking two motherfuckers out all on her own. It was like this wasn’t the first time something like this has happened. As much as it bothers me to think about it, I know I’m probably right.

  Sitting around the table, Tank leans his elbow on the tabletop and sighs, “Demons retaliating for that dead brother. They fucked us back after we shut their shit down,” is all he says. We all nod as he finishes it up with, “But we fuck back harder.”

  “You know that shit was about her too, right?” He says to me.

  “I’ll fuckin’ handle it.”

  “We’ll fuckin’ handle it as a club,” he corrects me. So we set up a plan and square everything away.

  Stretching his arms out, Tank looks over at me, “Lala alright?”

  “Fuck if I know.” It’s the truth. I have no fucking clue how she is. She’s alive, and truthfully, that’s’ all I really give a fuck about. If that makes me an asshole, then I’m the asshole of all assholes, because everything comes second to her. As long as she’s breathing and walking around, we’ll figure it the fuck out.

  “She was insane with that bat, brother,” Happy says, folding his arms across his chest.

  “That motherfucker threatened Lil, raised a gun, and she kinda fuckin’ snapped and lost her shit. She was fighting off one guy, but when she saw Lil, she went fucking wild,” Stitch says.

  Tank’s eyes shoot to me, “She did that for Lil?” If that’s what Stitch says, then I guess she did.

  “Fuck yeah. He pointed that shit at Lil ‘n Lala ninja kicked herself up, bringing down that bat on the guy who was dragging her out, then without a second thought, she battered up and knocked Lil’s guy across the jaw, and that was it. She just kinda blacked out ‘n kept wailin’ on him until… well, you fuckin’ saw him. A lump of dead, beat up meat on the floor. She’s kinda fuckin’ cool, and I don’t say that lightly. I was down, Lil was helping me, and Lala saved our fucking asses,” Stitch chuckles, “I won’t forget that shit. Me and Lil owe her our lives.”

  She did all that shit? Fuck.

  “Ain’t the first time she’s done that shit,” Happy adds as an afterthought, “She’s killed before.”

  And I believe that.

  ****

  The lights are turned off in the room and Lala is sitting in the middle of the bed when I walk in. She’s been sitting there with her eyes trained on the door, waiting for me. Jumping up, she rushes toward me the second I’m through the door.

  “Are you okay?” That sincere concern from her gets to me. She gives a fuck.

  “Yeah. A stitch or two ‘n I’m cool. You alright?” Taking a deep calming breath, she nods once. That’s all she’s gonna give me. “Gotta give me more than that,” A nod just isn’t gonna do it for me this time. I need her words.

  “I’m alright, really. Just worried about your arm,” I know she’s skating around this conversation. Too bad for her I’m not letting shit go.

  “Need more, Lala. Watched you beat that man with a bat until there wasn’t shit left of his head.” Looking away from me, she walks back to the bed. I follow those long legs up. She’s only wearing my t-shirt and her hair is wet, smells like flowers. Right now I want nothing more than to fuck her slow and sweet, then cuddle up with her and sleep, but I need this shit out there. “That wasn’t the first time you’ve done that, is it baby?”

  Her head snaps up to mine, eyes wide. “I’ve never used a bat.” That’s all I needed to hear. My sweet, innocent Lala has done this shit before.

  “Tell me why? What would cause you to kill someone?” Shaking her head she backs away from me and starts looking around on the floor, goin’ for a pair of sweats, but I grab them before she can. “Goddammit. Just tell me.”

  “No!” Going for her purse, I grab her arm. Jerking her into me, she tries to pull away but that’s not happenin’. She’s not running from me.

  “Lala.”

  “I had to do it,” she states calmly… too fucking calmly. Her body is relaxed and it’s fucking eerie.

  “And?”

  “And nothing.”

  “Fuck! Tell me.”

  Sitting on the bed she looks at her hands. Her face is impassive and her demeanor is void of any emotion. She just looks detached, and that scares me.

  “When I was fifteen, a man my mom had dated for years, Ryan’s dad, tried to force me to fuck him.”

  Instantly I start seeing red. “He raped you,” I correct her.

  “Tried,” she corrects me. My heart twists and my hands start shaking. “For years he’d do things like kiss me on the mouth, pin me into corners just to rub himself against me, things like that, but it never went that far. Then one night he tried to talk me into it. When I said no, he thought he could persuade me by holding me down, forcing me into fighting him off ‘cause he liked it rough. I had to make a choice and I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it. I just knew that I had to take care of it, make sure he couldn’t ever do it again. And well, I’m still here, and he’s not.” She shrugs her shoulder carelessly. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “The fuck it doesn’t”

  I don’t get it. Lil had a difficult time dealing with the life she took. People usually do. Lil’s learned to deal with it, but she’ll still get upset if you bring it up. It’s like Lala could give a fuck either way. I want to know how. I don’t know why, but I do.

  “How Lala?” Her eyes are downcast, but I see the strength in there.

  “He pinned me down underneath him. I knew he carried a gun on him somewhere at all times, so decided to play along, make him think I changed my mind and wanted him, so I let him touch me, and I touched him back. When I got my hand to the waist of his jeans, I found his gun. I put it under his chin and pulled the trigger. I shot him.” My stomach rolls. She shot him in the head.

  “While he was on top of you?” She nods her head and I get a clear picture. Blood and brains everywhere. Jesus Christ.

  I let that shit sit for a minute. No fucking clue how to even approach any of it. It seems like she’s worked it all out herself. She doesn’t strike me as a hardened, cold blooded killer, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by it.

  Sitting down next to her, I say, “I don’t get it. You don’t seem bothered by it.”

  She looks at me and it honest to God scares the shit out of me, “It’s not like I enjoyed it, but I was satisfied. He tried to take something from me, so I took his life. I don’t regret it, and I would do it again if I had to make that choice. You don’t know what my life was like. I was fifteen and I killed my mom’s boyfriend because he wanted to rape me. She blamed me after I told her why. She said it was my fault for making h
im want me, but she was so strung out on drugs and freaking out, but I forgave her for saying it. She wasn’t in her right mind, but because of it, she quit the drugs and tried to be a mom to me, even if it was only for a little while. I told you all this, except for the thing that happened with him, the reason we left. We left Ryan behind, thinking he would tell his dad’s drug dealing friends, but the only person who came looking for us was Ryan, and instead of handing me over to them, he used me. I took his money, his dad’s support of him away, leaving him to have to do for himself. I was in a relationship with him at 15, he was 18. My mom approved of it. Because of what I did, he’s even more sick than his dad was, so tell me something. What the hell was I supposed to do? I killed a bad person and I’m still paying for it. I picked me. I’m still here − I won.”

  “You’re not a bad person baby.” I reassure her. And she’s not. I don’t blame her for shit she’s done. In fact I’m proud as fuck she did that shit. She’s still alive and kicking, and that’s something to be thankful for. “I needed to know, Lala. I needed you to say it out loud ‘cause I don’t think you ever have. I don’t want that shit haunting you, and now I know, so you’re not alone. I understand and I get it. You also saved my family tonight.”

  “ I did what I had to do. I’m gonna sleep easy knowing that I took care of me and the people I care about.”

  “You need to talk about it, you talk to me. Now c’mere. I need you.”

  ****

  You know what they say, “Onwards and upwards.” That’s Lala. She’s unfazed. Fuck, she’s unshakeable; a goddamn badass. It’s been a few days and she’s okay. I’m gonna let her deal with it how she feels she needs to, and come to me if she wants to. Not pushin’ her. She’s got her shit more together than most of us here do.

  “Come here,” Sis grabs my arm and tugs me into the office as I walk by. Shutting the door, she leans against it and hushes me. Fuck. I didn’t even say anything.

  “What’s wrong with you, crazy ass. Why ya tuggin’ on me for?”

  “It’s Lala’s birthday,” she whispers loudly at me, giving me the evil eye. How the fuck would I know that.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m not askin’, dumbass. I’m tellin’.” I had no fucking clue. Not sure what Lil wants me to do with this tidbit of information.

  “Okay?” Her eyes widen and she glares.

  She throws her hands in the air and sighs dramatically, “Yeah, okay. So what are you going to do for her?” She asks me, lookin’ all expectant and shit.

  “When’s her birthday? Today?” Sighing again, she shakes her head and grumbles at me. Sis is good at making the brothers feel like complete fuckin’ assholes sometimes.

  “No. It’s in two days, and you’re going to do something nice for her.”

  Lil begins to fill my head with crazy shit, like a hot air balloon ride. She fuckin’ kidding me? First off, that’s never happening. I’ve got two fucking days, not thirty to plan something like that. Second, isn’t that like a proposal kinda thing? I’m never going there.

  She threw out a candlelit dinner with a band. A band? Where the fuck do bitches get this kind of shit? It’s all those fuckin princess movies, that’s where. Bitches and their exaggerated ideas of romantic grandeur. Lil clearly doesn’t realize she lives with a bunch of excessive drinking, bad-mouthed, criminal bikers. Her heads filled with delusional knight in shining armor shit.

  “The fuck? This isn’t Disney Land, Sis.”

  The guys aren’t much help either. Gin’s answer is to throw money at her, because his woman loves that shit. Crush got all fuckin’ creepy on me, spittin’ out all kinds of romantic shit. Tiny just shrugged. Sargent just got up and left the second the question left my mouth.

  “Take her to a beach and fuck her on a towel.” That was Blade’s solution. According to him, beaches are romantic. I’m going to kill myself.

  “Flowers,” Tank grumbles.

  “Flowers?” Not the scariest suggestion. I might be able to handle flowers.

  “Fuck yeah, flowers. Bitches love flowers.”

  I don’t want to do shit, but for Lala, I will. All that sweet deserves something for her birthday. Not sure what it’ll be yet, but I want to give her something. She deserves that. Fuck, she deserves more than I could ever give her, but I’ll try, or at least die trying.

  Lala

  Rough fingers trail a line up and down my arm, leaving a wake of goose bumps behind. We’ve been like this for a while now. The only reason I know he’s awake is because his hand hasn’t stopped.

  “Babe?” His voice deep and scratchy.

  “Hmm?” I’m too tired and comfortable for words.

  “Headin’ out for a few days in the mornin’?” My heart hits my ribs and anxiety begins to run rampant through my chest. He’s leaving? I know I shouldn’t panic at the idea, but I do. These past few weeks he’s been with me every day, a constant source of dependability.

  “Oh, uh… okay. How long will you been gone?” I try to sound unaffected, pretending it doesn’t bother me. I don’t want to be that annoying needy bitch, so I suck it up.

  “A few days, but Lala?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Takin’ your ass with me, babe.”

  ****

  Rampage won’t tell me anything. He said pack a small bag and that was all. Now I’m pressed into this back, arms resting around his waist and fingers twisted in his t-shirt. Lush greens and yellows fly by as Rampage roars down the old highway through the forest. The smell of rain, forest, and fresh air swirl around me and I love it. I never thought a motorcycle and a highway could bring so much peace and calm, but it does.

  Pulling off of the highway, the road narrows and the forest closes in on the single lane road. The sun is blocked out by the overgrown trees, along with the air, which gets cooler the deeper we go. I see a beautiful blue lake up ahead, the crystal water stretching as far as the eye can see.

  Pulling down a pebbled drive, a small moss and ivy covered cottage comes into view.

  “Up ‘n off, babe.” The first words he’s spoken in a few hours, and those words always make me smile. Getting off the bike has become a little easier each time, but still I pray I don’t land on my ass. There is a fifty-fifty chance my ass will find cement each time I get off, but so far I’ve not embarrassed myself too bad.

  Watching Rampage get off of the bike, he’s pure man. Dark, dirty jeans, black boots, blue t-shirt, which is covered by his cut. His face is covered in a dark blue bandana, making him look more foreboding and mean. The only thing I can see are those dark menacing eyes. A deep brown that’s so dark, it borders on black. Those eyes full of soul and worry. Eyes that have seen and dealt death. Eyes that are haunting, and to me, they’re perfect.

  “What is this place?” Rampage steers me toward the door. His hands and chin rest on my shoulders, his beard scraping on my skin.

  “A house.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  “Rather be a smart-ass than a dumb-ass, babe,” He fires back. Well he’s got me there and his words make me laugh. It’s a rare thing when he’s anything other than hard, so when he’s like this, I enjoy it. When I look up at him, he actually smiles. It’s soft and little, but it’s a smile.

  “Really, what is this place?”

  “A cabin in the forest.”

  “How’d you know about it?”

  “Like you, I had a shit childhood. Mom brought me here when I was little, maybe six. One of the only fun things she did with me; one of the few good things I remember about her.” My heart hurts for that little six-year old Jameson.

  “What was your mom’s name?” His hands on my shoulders tighten and I can feel his body go rigid behind me.

  After a long quiet moment, he says, “Georgia.” I don’t push for more. That’s more than enough for me.

  “Thank you. So why’d you bring me here?”

  “It’s your birthday.” He says simply. I don’t ask how he knows ‘cause it doesn’t matter.


  The cottage is small, it’s old, it’s in need of repair, but it’s perfect. Just like the small beach house we stayed at, this one is full of old rustic charm and character. It’s beautiful.

  ****

  “Thank you for bringin’ me here.” I feel those damn tears well up. Jesus Christ, Rampage has turned me into a big ass baby. It’s hard not to get emotional because he’s been so wonderful. Taking care of me, looking out for me. I give nothing in return, yet he’s still here, being so damn good to me.

  “Don’t start gettin’ all girly on me, babe.” He looks a little scared, which makes me laugh.

  “But you’re just so good to me. Why? I just don’t get it.”

  “Why?”

  “Yeah. I mean, you’re not nice to anyone like you’ve been nice to me, so why?” A big arm wraps around my neck, pulling me further into him. His lips press into the top of my head.

  “Lala, don’t ask that kinda shit. You know why, baby. Now go to sleep.” His hand stops moving after about ten minutes. I’m almost sure he’s asleep ‘‘til I hear him whisper, “Because I fuckin’ care about you.”

  ****

  The tantalizing smell of breakfast pulls me from my sleep. The bed dips and a big hand lands on my lower back. Pressing his face into my neck, Rampage growls, “Wake your ass up.” No good morning. No traditional soft and sweet, this is his soft and sweet. Rolling over, his large body looms over me. A white tray with a plate full of whipped cream, strawberries, and waffles wait for me next to him.

  “You made me breakfast?”

  “Tried.” He tried? Well it looks like he succeeded. In fact, it looks mouthwatering.

  “It looks delicious.”

  “We’ll see.” Damn him.

  “Shut up and hand me the plate.” At that I’m rewarded with my plate and a smile. A fucking smile. It’s perfect. He’s fucking beautiful when he smiles. Best.Birthday.Ever!

  ****

  “Alright. Whatcha wanna do today?” He asks with his arms crossed over his chest, ankles crossed at the feet, leaning against his bike.

  “I get to pick?” That’s seriously surprising.