by Addison Jane
Ripley wasn’t exactly what you would call, ‘take home to the parents’ material. But you couldn’t fault him for the respect he showed. It was something which was important to him when it came to the people who were essential in his life. I’d seen it with Huntsman, with Drake and with Meyah, but also toward Ham and Shotgun and the members of his own club.
My mom saw it, and I think Austin was beginning to see it too.
Yes, he was still an asshole, and yeah, we were going to fight, and I was probably going to want to beat the shit out of him most days, but at least things would never be boring. And at least I’d always feel safe.
“I don’t know why you brought all this stuff, I’m hoping to be released in a few hours when my blood pressure finally goes down.” It was still high, and the doctors said it was most likely just the stress and the situation, but what they didn’t say with their mouths and did say with their faces was that it should have started to decline by now.
They had me hooked up to some machine, which would alert the nurses if for some reason it started to get worse because the other concern was the drugs Caleb had given me. They had no idea what it was, how much he gave me, or what kind of issues it had already caused within my body.
That was the scary part. Not knowing what was happening inside me, or why, and having it be like that because of the actions of someone else. Either way, they were running tests, and I was hoping in a few hours the tests would be clear, my heart would slow down, and I would just be able to go home.
With Rip.
And with my friends.
And my family.
Mom started fussing again, and I just let her. “I wonder if any of the boys sitting down in the waiting room want some of this food,” she questioned to no one, staring at the mass amounts she’d bought with her.
Before I could answer, the door swung open, and I saw the flash of a white coat. I leaned back in the bed and took a deep breath praying it was the doctor with the results, and I was about to get out of this place. I knew for a fact that Ripley hated hospitals, so the longer I was here, the longer he was demanding to stay even though I was pretty sure at this stage he was actually injured worse than I was.
“Dakota Samuels,” the doctor announced, and I swore in that moment my stomach sank through the bed and landed on the floor.
I sat up.
It hurt.
Every fucking piece of me hurt.
And it hurt because of him.
My eyes connected with Caleb’s as he held my clipboard in his hand like he knew what the fuck he was talking about. There was no smile, no pleasantries. He wasn’t playing a part, he was just there to destroy me.
“Dakota…” Mom murmured, taking a step closer to me, her eyes narrowed on the doctor. She’d met him, he’d been to dinner at my brother’s house, he’d spent time with her granddaughter, determined to use all them against me.
That cocky smile I usually saw plastered across his face was gone. It was nonexistent. All that was left was a narrowed glare and his lip curled as he sneered at me across the room.
“Who knew one little girl could destroy ten years’ worth of hard fucking work,” Caleb seethed, taking a step closer to the bed. I reached out for my mom, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to me, determined not to let him hurt her. “Ten years, Dakota. I had a reputation. I built up my life. I had respect. And because of you, now all I’ve got is a price on my head.”
“Don’t put this on me. You did this,” I argued back.
Mom grabbed my arm, squeezing my hand as if telling me to shut up. This was one moment where I didn’t want to.
His hand pulled out of one of the massive pockets in his doctor’s coat, revealing a large needle. My heart instantly felt like it was going to stop.
I couldn’t do this again.
I wouldn’t let him do this again.
“You’re a coward,” I yelled. “You pick on innocent people, you force them to do things to hurt the people they care about, all so you can what? Look like a hero? Feel good about yourself?”
He flicked the top off the needle and took another step forward. I threw the blanket away from me and leaped off the side of the bed, the heart rate monitor on my finger flying off as I put myself in front of my mom. Fear spiked through me, lighting my body up once again as Caleb walked forward.
“This time, it’s not a sedative,” he sneered, following us, matching each of our steps with one of his which was much larger. “This time, there will be no waking up. And you know what? That will only be the first step. Next, I’ll take every fucking one of those club members to the grave starting with their president, Huntsman. I’ll probably leave Ripley till last, and let him destroy himself as he watches every single fucking member of his family die, just like his mother.”
That was it.
There was no more flight left.
I wasn’t going to let him do it.
I wouldn’t let him go after them.
I caught sight of the door swing open behind him, but I’d already made my plan. I wasn’t about to be the victim of this asshole again. And I wasn’t about to let anyone else be either.
I turned, picking up the large dish of stew my mom had brought, not caring that it instantly fried the palms of my hands, and tossed it straight at his head. The hot liquid covered his entire face and the scream he let out was one that I knew the entire hospital would hear, including the ten to twenty bikers sitting in the waiting room. Not that it mattered because the room was already beginning to fill up with men who were just looking for an excuse to kill the bastard.
The needle fell from Caleb’s hand, and I kicked it across the room as he fell to his knees like he was melting. His hands shook as he tried to wipe the almost nuclear temperature soup from his face and eyes, and I cringed, watching as pieces of skin seemed to instantly start to peel off along with it.
Ripley, Huntsman and Drake all stared, their guns drawn ready to put a million bullet holes in the asshole, which I almost wished they had, but they were too slow.
Austin rushed in, his gun drawn and pulling to a stop, his eyes wide as he took in the scene, just as Caleb dropped to the floor hitting it with a thump.
“Let me put him and us out of this fucking misery,” Ripley growled under his breath, his finger twitching on his trigger, his eyes looking to Austin to just let him fucking do it. “We both know the world will be a fucking better place.”
But I knew my brother.
“You shoot him, I’ll have to arrest you, and that’ll make my sister cry,” Austin snarled, narrowing his eyes on Rip.
A handful of medical staff rushed into the room, pushing everyone back as they raced to get to Caleb who was not moving since he’d passed out from the pain.
We quickly explained the situation, and Austin let them know that he was a fugitive and would need to be handcuffed to prevent escape, and followed them out to the closest O.R. talking about reconstructive surgery.
Ripley picked me up and climbed onto the bed with me in his arms, ignoring the way I slapped at his shoulder, scolding him about injuring his ribs even more than they were. “Can you stop bitching at me for one fucking moment woman, and let me just enjoy the fact that you’re here. Your heart machine suddenly went dead, and all the fucking sirens in the nurses’ station started screaming.” He shook his head.
“We thought you’d gone into cardiac arrest,” Drake added when Rip wouldn’t say anything else.
I instantly felt a little bad and wiggled my head in under his chin, enjoying the strange, but comfortable way his body wrapped around me.
Everyone seemed to sit back for a second and take a collective breath.
We all needed it.
It wasn’t often that you stood in the eyes of death twice in twenty-four hours. Whether it was you facing the reaper, someone you cared about, or the person you loved, it never got any easier. It never got any simpler. So, when you were granted another chance, another day, another breath, you took it. You
didn’t waste it, you didn’t live with regrets.
You found what made you happy, and you lived.
You just lived.
“Has anyone found Lauren yet?” I asked, wondering if I had to be nervous that there would be a third attempt on my life.
The boys all looked at each other.
They knew.
“Where is she?”
“She did a lot of drugs while she was away pretending to pass college,” Huntsman explained, shaking his head. “We think they might have brought on the psychotic symptoms or some kind of underlying mental illness. Sometimes it doesn’t really come to the forefront without a catalyst.”
“She showed up at the theater just after you were taken away, smelling like gasoline and acting like she had no idea what was going on,” Drake grunted. “She was arrested, and she’ll be having psych evaluations to determine whether she needs serious help, or whether she’s just a raging bitch who enjoys killing people.”
“Either way, she’s gone far away, and I promise she won’t be back,” Huntsman added with a nod, and I believed him. Because he had my back. He talked me through. He made sure that everything I went through to get Caleb wouldn’t be wasted.
And I hated that I had to do it behind Ripley’s back, but sometimes it’s not about standing behind your old man or beside him. There are times where we need to stand in front of them, be their reason and be their voice, and protect them from themselves.
Ripley pulled back, his bloodshot eyes not quite back to normal, but the sparkle in them very present. “You know, this whole being a family thing isn’t going to work well if your brother is going to be threatening to arrest me every time I wanna shoot someone.”
My mother laughed loudly, and I even caught the smallest smirk on Huntsman’s face as he shook his head.
“We’ll work on it,” I told him with a wide grin.
“Good.”
DAKOTA
Two Months Later
“Remind me again why I agreed to help you do this?” I groaned as I stared at the hundreds of damn balloons that were spread across the bar at the Exiled Eight clubhouse, just waiting to be filled with air. “Why didn’t you get one of those helium machines that fills them? At least then they’re fun.”
Meyah stared at me, her brows knitted together. “Have you seen these ceilings? The balloons would all end up, up there,” she lectured, pointing at the ridiculously high roof while still looking at me like I was a couple colors short of a rainbow. “And then knowing my dad and the boys, they’d probably start shooting at them to try and pop them.”
“Shooting at the ceiling?”
“Everything is bulletproof around here.”
I raised my brow. “Really?”
She shook her head. “God help you when you move in next week.”
I opened my mouth to object and defend my knowledge of motorcycle clubs and their need to bulletproof fucking everything, but before I could, there was a hard slap across my ass. The sting was instant, and I screamed, spinning around ready to throw my fist only to find Ripley standing there with a smirk on his face. “How many times have I told you… that hurts!”
“It’s meant to,” he threw back, looking at me like I was crazy. “Anyway, I own it, I get to do what I want with it.”
“Yeah, well, I just changed the ownership papers.” I shrugged, turning away and reaching for another balloon. “It’s now the property of Meyah.”
“Yes!” Meyah crowed, jumping in the air before turning to her brother and poking out her tongue. “Take that, I own your girlfriend’s ass.” She reached over and pinched it, and I wiggled it right back at her.
He frowned at me, and I could see for a few seconds, the cogs in his brain were turning. That was never good because as much as people liked to believe that Ripley was this motorhead biker with no brains and an itchy trigger finger, the asshole was actually smart too.
Which he instantly proved when he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and held it out to his sister.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks for Dakota’s ass.”
Meyah’s eyes lit up, and she snatched the money out of his hand. “Deal.”
“Hey,” I protested, but it was quickly dismissed when Ripley rushed forward and picked me up, dipping his body and hefting me over his shoulder. “Rip, put me down, dammit!”
“We’ve gotta go somewhere,” he responded, slapping his hand across my ass cheek making my entire body jolt and my nipples instantly harden. Then he lowered his voice. “You can stop pretending now like you aren’t wet as fucking hell.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you ride my cock after we’re done with what I need to do.”
I pressed my lips together wishing my body was as damn fucking stubborn as my brain because as much as I wanted to tell him to go shove his cock in a pool of piranhas, my pussy was a hussy, and it was screaming, yes, please.
“I hate you,” I deadpanned. His response was triumphant laughter as he placed me on my feet and then proceeded to pull me toward the clubhouse parking area. “Rip, if we’re late, Meyah’s going to crucify us,” I complained as he dragged me toward his bike.
“We’ll be back in time,” he promised, snatching my pink helmet off his bike and plonking it down on my head, blinding me. I pushed the front back noticing he’d already turned around to get his own helmet and left me to do it up myself.
Men.
“Where are we going?”
His fingers stilled for a minute at my question. He’d been quiet for a few days, and I’d pretended like I hadn’t noticed the increased number of nightmares he’d had last night. I wasn’t sure he was getting any sleep or not, to be quite honest, but I knew how he hated to dwell on it. When he had nightmares, he just wanted them to pass.
Some might think it was strange to live the way Ripley does, having most nights haunted by memories of traumatic events. For a lot of people, I could imagine that would drive them fucking insane having to live it over and over again. But Ripley just took it in his stride, he accepted it was something he had to live with and that it was a piece of him. And I accept that it was too.
“Just trust me?” he asked, looking over his shoulder and catching my eye. It was like with those three words he’d opened a dam, and the tenseness in my body seemed to float downstream. They’d become an important part of us. They were a guarantee he’d be there to look after me, and that he would keep me safe, no matter what we were about to do, or where we were about to go.
“Okay,” I agreed. “But if we’re late for Meyah’s party, I’m blaming you. There’s no ‘we’re in this together.’”
He snorted and threw his leg over his ride waiting for me to climb on the back before he started her up. “Traitor,” he called over the roar of the engine, and my laughter followed us out of the compound and onto the road.
RIPLEY
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, the one that had been there since yesterday when I decided I was going to do this. I didn’t know how to explain what was going on in my head or even why we were about to do it, and I knew the words wouldn’t really mean much anyway until she saw it.
The ride only took a few minutes. It was a blur of industrial buildings that slowly became thinner and thinner until we appeared in a more suburban looking part of Las Vegas.
It was still sandy colors, not a lot of green, and the fact that it was winter too meant everything just kind of had this dull, muted vibe.
I shouldn’t have really been expecting rainbows and daisies though.
The parking lot was empty, so I picked a park at random and backed into it. Then I kicked out my stand before switching the low rumble of the engine off. Instantly the air around us felt different. The air was cold, there were no leaves on the trees or birds chirping to fill in the silence. But we didn’t need it.
Things were never awkward with Dakota, never weird or stagnant. She made me feel lik
e we could conquer the world, like I could face anything, and I knew that when I turned around, she’d be standing right there with me.
Her arms didn’t pull away when the engine stopped. She actually squeezed me a little tighter and pressed her lips to my cut, right between my shoulder blades. And I knew without a doubt, if I’d have just sat there, and not moved for the next hour, she wouldn’t have questioned me, she would have stayed exactly like that. No questions asked.
And honestly, for a moment, that was all I felt like I might have been able to do. But there was a reason I took Dakota there with me. Because she made me stronger. She stood for me. She fought for me. She had my back.
After a few moments, I managed to find my balls from wherever they’d disappeared, and we both got to our feet and took off our helmets.
We walked across the grass, Dakota’s hand in mine gripping tightly. When I spotted the gravestone up ahead, I stalled for a moment, and Dakota stopped right beside me. She didn’t look up at me in confusion or question why I’d suddenly felt different, she just stood and waited for me to take the lead, she just waited for me to decide what I wanted to do next.
I could see the flowers that sat proudly beside her black stone, that even in this dark, cloudy day, still sparkled in the sunlight. I hadn’t been here since I was little, since they put her in the ground, and we walked away. My dad always made sure we spent that day each year remembering her, but he’d never once forced us to come with him to lay flowers or to just talk. And I’d been okay with that, until now. Up until now, I hadn’t had anything to say. But things had changed, I’d changed, my heart had changed, and I wasn’t that little boy anymore.
So now, I had a few things I needed to say. And for me to say them, I needed Dakota’s strength as she stood beside me.
I took a deep breath and continued forward until I stood right in front of the stone, her name written across it in this magnificent script that I remembered thinking as a little boy was far too fancy for my mom. Mom wasn’t fancy, she wasn’t extravagant, she wasn’t anything like the headstone portrayed her as.
