by K. L. Savage
“I can’t. He’ll never let me go.”
He never had you.
That’s what I want to say, but I know right now isn’t the time to tell her everything I know. It might set her off more to know she was never married to Kenneth in the first place. Even the social security number on the form was wrong. The man played her and she’s falling right into his trap.
“I’ll make sure he never touches you again, all you have to do is come with me. Put the gun down and let me in. Let me in, Cupcake. I swear your world will change for the better.” I get to my feet and stand.
“I’m not worth your efforts, Whistler. You deserve someone who isn’t broken.” She lifts the gun again and the acceptance she has in her eyes makes me sprint. I launch myself through the air when I’m close enough and wrap my arms around her. She slides off the truck as I tackle her to the ground and the gun gets knocked out of her hand.
A gunshot echoes across the lake and my ears ring. My heart is going a million miles an hour and I can hardly catch my breath. I touch her all over to make sure she isn’t shot.
That was too close.
I was a second away from losing a chance of a lifetime.
She’s weeping to the point of gasping; I’m worried she can’t breathe. I gather her in my arms and bring her to my lap, cradling her like I would a small child. I press her head against my chest, and I know she can feel the wild race of my heart, the adrenaline and fear still pumping strong inside me.
“I got you, Cupcake. You’re safe. You’re okay.” I push her hair back and kiss her forehead. “I have you.” I rock her from side to side as she lets free these guttural roaring wails, the kind that comes from a jaded, injured soul.
A tired soul.
One that has been lost, but I’m here now.
“I’m-I’m-sorry. I’m so-sor-sorry,” she tries to say through broken attempts. Her hands are clutching my shirt as she claws at me. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.
“It’s going to be okay, Charlie.” I tilt my head back and stare at the sky, hating how beautiful the stars are in a moment where something so awful nearly happened.
“I’m so tired, Whistler. I don’t want to go back.” She curls up in my lap and grips my cut, her wet cheeks shining against the moonlight.
Even devastated, she’s the prettiest woman this world has ever seen.
“Don’t make me go back, please. I’ll do anything. I don’t want to go back to him. He’ll kill me. I was supposed to be home and I didn’t plan on going back.”
I cup her face and wipe her tears away with my thumbs. I tilt my chin down and peer at her through my lashes. “You will never go back to him. You’ll go wherever you want, Charlie. Okay? You’re safe now.” I kiss her forehead, closing my eyes as the warmth of my lips kisses along her skin. I can taste the salty sheen of sweat and it doesn’t bother me. She’s warm. She’s alive. She’s in my arms.
I want to be the place she chooses to stay, but I know trust comes in time and with everything she has been through, I expect earning that trust will take a while.
I’ll use the rest of the time I have on the earth. Even having her in my arms is more than I could ever want. I know it means nothing to her, but it means the world to me.
If all I can be is a friend, I’ll take it.
“If you weren’t here, I would have killed myself.” She’s able to talk now. It’s been thirty minutes of holding her while I sit on the ground.
“Well, you almost did even with me here. I can’t allow that.”
She stays silent for a few seconds. “I don’t want him to win. He’s won for far too long.”
“Let me take you somewhere safe, okay?”
She nods and her eyes close as she leans against my chest. “Just don’t lock me away. Please, I’ll be good.”
I stand and walk to the passenger side of the truck, my brows pinching as I look down at her sleeping face, finally at peace.
But alive.
“You’ll never be locked in a room again, Cupcake.” I kiss the tip of her nose and lay her across the large seat. “He’ll never touch you. He’ll never hurt you. Not as long as I’m alive.” I stroke her cheek and close the door gently until it clicks.
The gun is a few feet away from the truck and in a few steps, I squat down and pick it up. She had to have dropped a pretty penny on this bad boy. I’ll sell it and give her the cash. Whatever she wants, she’ll have. I’ll buy her a new identity. I’ll forge documents, and she can become a new person if she wants.
I don’t want her to. I want her to stay and fight for the life she can have here.
With me.
Wiping the gun off with my shirt so her fingerprints aren’t on it, I tuck the small silver piece in my waistband and head to my bike. I have to figure out a way to get it in the back of the work truck. I knock the kickstand free and roll the bike forward.
When I’m at the truck I pop down the tailgate. “Thank the lucky fucking stars,” I point to the sky when I see the long piece of plywood and some two-by-fours in the back. That’s all I need to help my baby up. I can’t leave her out here.
It takes a few attempts, and I thought the wood was going to snap in half for a few seconds even with the two-by-fours under it, but I manage to get her in the bed and use some rope to tie her down so she can’t go anywhere. I place my arms on the edge of the old Ford and hang my head. My muscles are tense, and my knee is aching again from crumbling to the ground in hopes my begging would deter her.
I’ll get the full story about the gun tomorrow when she’s had time to rest, but a part of me wants to use it on Kenneth instead of my bat. Something about killing him with the gun she bought is poetic to me.
“Whistler? Whistler!” Charlie sits up and calls out for me, panicked again.
I run to the driver’s side and climb in, placing my hand on top of hers as it rests flat against the seat. “I was just putting my bike in the back. I’m here, Cupcake. You aren’t alone.” I slam the door and cringe as the hinges scrape together.
She slides across the seat and places her head on my lap, allowing herself to rest. I stretch my arm along the back of the seat, wanting nothing more than to wrap her up safe in my embrace, but I want her to come to me before I encroach on her space and body.
I dig my fingers into the leather to control the urge to touch her. The truck dips into a pothole as I drive along the dirt road to get to the main one. A horrible pop-country song comes on and I press the knob to turn the noise off.
Silence is what we need right now.
I slowly turn right onto the road and head home. The sun has officially set, and the starry night is clear. It’s so crisp and vivid, I can differentiate the shades of black. Some spots are lighter, while others are so deep that it seems like that one spot holds a million stars.
It probably does.
So much beauty in the world and it’s overlooked by so much ugly. The world is so focused on the negative, on just surviving, that we've forgetten that something as simple as the night sky can make the day a smidge better.
Charlie turns to her side and wraps her arms around my leg as she sleeps, tugging herself closer. She’s latched on and too afraid to let go.
She might not ever be ready for the love I have to give, but I’ll be there the day she decides to take it.
All I can do is hope that time is on my side and that Charlie’s heart will know how to heal after I break the truth to her about Kenneth Hastings. He’s kept a rare, beautiful creature behind bars for far too long and it’s time to integrate her into the world again.
She’s a force to be reckoned with and I have no doubt she’s going to unleash the fury that’s been building. Anyone in her way will suffer the consequences. She’s strong, the strength just hidden right now under exhaustion and defeat. With care and patience, it will reemerge.
Another night like tonight cannot happen. I might not be quick enough next time.
Instead of parking out front, I decide to drive ar
ound the back of the building where the carport is to hide the truck. I have no doubt Kenneth will come looking for her since she’s supposed to be working here with her dad.
Most of the guys are here by the looks of all the bikes parked. I check the rearview for the hundredth time to make sure my baby is still there where she needs to be. I’ll worry about her later. Right now, I need to get Charlie inside.
The hot night air creeps inside as soon as the door opens, and I see One standing there waiting for me. “How was it?” he asks.
Charlie mumbles in her sleep as I tuck my arms under her and lift. Holding her close, I step out of the truck, and One shuts the door gently. Charlie buries her face in the side of my neck and she releases a soft sigh, melting my fucking heart in the process.
“Not good, One. Not good at all. Let me get her in a bed and I’ll fill you in, okay?”
“Alright. I’ll unload your bike from the back and catch up with you.”
“Thanks man. Oh, hey—” I spin around just as he drops the tailgate. “—How is Taylor?”
“She’s okay. She can hardly walk to the bathroom without feeling pain. Driller is going to run more tests to make sure he didn’t miss anything.”
He better not have. I’ll be pissed if he overlooked an injury.
“She’ll be okay. I’ve been looking out for her.”
As always. There isn’t a day where One doesn’t have her back, just like he has mine. “Thanks. I just need a few minutes.” There’s a back stairwell that heads upstairs to the rooms where my sister is staying. I press my cheek against the top of her head as I climb the steps, the old wood groaning from my weight.
There are vintage lamps installed along the wall, the ones with the frosted glass to give a faint glow that’s just enough to see where I’m going.
When I get to the top, there’s a door straight ahead and I make a beeline for it. When I’m inside, I take a minute to appreciate how Mercy tried to preserve what was left of the Victorian home after half of it was turned into a shack for the Peep Show.
The walls are painted blood red and the bed is queen-sized with a black comforter and red pillows. This room definitely has a darker vibe than the one my sister is staying in. There’s a black dresser to the left and a gothic-style vanity in the far-right corner with an antique mirror hanging on the wall that gives me the creeps.
I bet if I look into it the ghost of my mom will appear.
I peel the comforter back with one hand and lie Charlie down. Her fire-burnt hair hangs in her face, and I smooth my knuckles over her cheek, taking the strand of hair with me to tuck it behind her ear.
“You’re safe now, Cupcake,” I repeat, hoping she can hear me in her dreams. I kiss her forehead, hating that I have to leave her. I don’t want her to wake up alone. I eye the black leather recliner next to the nightstand, debating if I want to sleep there tonight. Will it be too much? Will she be afraid if she sees me here?
I slip off her shoes and tuck them under the bed, then cover her with the soft comforter. Her pale skin against the darkness of the comforter gives her the appearance of a porcelain doll. Light copper lashes fan long shadows across her cheek and the longer I look at her, the more I see the healing bruises from a few weeks ago.
Never again.
“I’ll be right back, Cupcake. I promise.” I head to the closet and grab an extra pillow and blanket, then place them on the recliner for later.
Giving her one last look, I leave the door open so I can hear if she needs anything and head downstairs.
When my boots hit the floor, the weight of not having any sleep slams into me. I sway. All I want to do is sleep but I have a feeling shit is about to get worse before it gets better. I can ask Driller if he can give me something for tonight. If I can get one good night’s sleep, then that’s all I need. I’ll be good for another month after that.
I hear a few voices coming from the kitchen and my stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I slap my belly and push the silver door open with my boots. I groan when I smell steaks and hear them sizzling. I.E.D is by the stove, flipping the steaks on the flattop, laughing at Socks whose wrist is zip-tied to a pipe above him.
Only one man could have done that.
Zip-tie.
Who is currently cackling in the corner with Moose and Anvil.
“What’s going on in here?”
Everyone turns their head toward me at the same time while I take a seat in the corner where Mercy put a few booths.
“Ah, Socks is a newbie so Zip-tie is giving him shit,” I.E.D explains as he sets a black matte mug down in front of me that says, ‘Have Mercy at Mercy’s’ in white letters. “He said nothing was going to keep him from snatching a steak, so Zip-tie did something about it.” I.E.D. pours me a cup of coffee while wearing an apron.
It may or may not say, “Come kiss me and explode.”
“You look like shit.”
I snort before taking a sip of fresh coffee. “Well, thank you. That’s awfully kind of you, sir.”
“Everything okay with Charlie? She seems like a sweet girl.” Socks stretches for the plate of steaks that is just out of his reach.
I.E.D stomps over and slaps his hand with a spatula. “Don’t you dare.”
“Ow. You don’t have to be so mean about it.”
“You’re such a baby.” I.E.D rolls his eyes. “If anyone is going to eat first it is the VP.”
“Where’s Mercy?” I set my cup of coffee down on the wooden top of the booth and begin to wonder if one of these days Mercy will just leave us and never come back.
“I heard my ears burning and smell steak cooking,” Mercy announces his arrival in the kitchen, and I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
I guess I’m still nervous Mercy doesn’t want to be Prez. I need this to work with him. The men need it. This Club is our home and without it, I’m not sure where we would be. I really need Mercy to stay. I don’t know what we would do otherwise.
“Sorry I disappeared. After you took off I got caught up in a phone call with Reaper.” Mercy takes the seat across from me and I.E.D pours him a cup of coffee.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. I just had a few business questions is all.” He hums as he swallows the brew. “Good coffee, I.E.D.”
It’s one of the first time he has acknowledged someone that isn’t me or One. I.E.D’s brows nearly reach his hairline as he stares at me, then grins. “Thanks, Prez.”
Mercy leans his elbows on the table and folds them over one another. “Are you going to tell me why you left Church earlier?”
“You mean a meeting where you weren’t even saying anything to begin with?”
“I’ll let you have that one because I know I haven’t been a great leader but that’s going to change. I’ll ask one last time, why did you leave?”
I.E.D takes the moment to interrupt, like a damn waiter coming to check on you at the worst time, and places two plates of food down in front of us. Damn, I didn’t know he could cook like this. There’s a fresh salad, mash potatoes, and a steak so thick it's taking up half the plate.
Fuck, yes.
It better be medium rare, closer to rare. I like my meat to moo when I cut into it.
“This looks great, I.E.D. You want a job as the Chef?”
I.E.D. fumbles and drops a knife on the ground, fumbling over himself. “Seriously? Do you mean it? Oh man, Prez, I already have a bunch of ideas. I have a menu and everything for the bar I’ve been trying to talk to you about. I—”
Mercy holds up his hand to stop him from talking. “I don’t need to see it. I trust you. The job is yours. You can create whatever you want. We will hire a few outsiders to help, maybe some teens that need a job to give you a hand. You okay with that?”
“Yes, Prez. Whatever you want. Thank you so much.”
Mercy turns to face me again while Zip-tie and Anvil give I.E.D a high-five. I shake my head as I cut into my s
teak.
“You just made his day. Our old Prez didn’t let him cook because Prez’s ol’ lady ran things in the kitchen. I.E.D loves to cook.”
“Yeah, well, dreams are made to be reached, right? He has every right to be in the kitchen if that’s where he wants to be. Also, what’s his name stand for? I know there is no way it means what it usually means.”
The steak is perfect, and I moan as I chew. “Fuck, that’s good.” I begin to cut another piece. “And I can’t tell you that. He’ll have to.” I smirk.
“I think I can connect the dots,” Mercy utters.
“I placed a tracking device on her truck.”
Mercy stops cutting the steak and is about to ask why but he changes his mind and goes back to his meal.
“I wanted to make sure she was okay. She went home every day. It was like clockwork. Work. Home. But then I got an alert saying she was going to Lake Mead. It was unlike her, so I followed. And…” The mash potatoes become difficult to swallow, becoming lodged in the back of my throat.
At some point, I.E.D gave us two glasses of water and I chug mine, the ice-cold water soothing. I lick my lips after I set the red cup down and reach behind my back to grab the gun, sliding it across the table. “Found her with that playing Russian Roulette with herself.”
“No shit?” I turn to see One standing there in the entryway, staring at the gun with wide eyes. “Damn, it’s a good thing you left when you did.” One sits down next to me and steals my fork, stabbing a piece of steak I had precut. “She okay?”
“Hell no she isn’t okay. She would have killed herself if I hadn’t stopped her and talked her down. She was going to do it. I tackled her to the ground before she could.”
Mercy whistles. “Does she know the truth about Kenneth?”
“No. I didn’t want to tell her when she had a gun to her head.”
“Makes sense,” One agrees.
“She’s upstairs in one of the rooms, right?”
“Yeah, Prez. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it is. That’s what this place is for. Well, you have to tell her before Monday when they start working again,” Mercy says. “It’s the right thing to do. Poor girl. I want to kill that guy.”
