“The boys have connections everywhere, girl. Torch made a call to someone in the DMV for Cutter a couple of days ago.”
I’m beginning to understand that the “connections” the brothers have run far and wide.
We spend the next few hours in and out of store after store. Each time the card gets swiped, I have an all-consuming fear that it will get denied because with the amount I’m spending, I find it hard to believe I haven’t emptied his account yet.
We’re walking past a Mexican restaurant when Izzy stops to look at the menu. “You hungry?” she asks.
“Yeah, actually. My feet are killing me, too.”
"It's definitely overwhelming, but all of us had a trip like this when we met our boys. Except for Tracie, we came from some pretty screwed up pasts and had almost nothing to our name when the guys met us. It was definitely a learning curve. Not that Trace didn't have her own baggage, but she grew up in the club so it was all second nature to her." Her arm loops through mine. "I know it's hard. You really have a safe haven here, though."
The prospects appear out of thin air and take our bags. Tracie tosses them her keys. “No funny business, okay? She’s my baby.”
The guys head back toward the car, laden with shopping bags. I stifle a giggle as we walk through the double doors. There are people everywhere. None of the tables near the window are free so we’re shown to a booth near the back of the restaurant. The girls take their seats
"I actually need to run to the bathroom," I say. “Can you just order me a soda?”
Nikki points to a door on the opposite side of the restaurant and I head to the bathrooms. As I walk between the tables, I spy someone at the bar and my stomach flips then sinks.
Dylan.
My heels click against the floor as I pick up my pace, running toward the bathroom and straight into a stall, slamming the door behind me, making sure the door is locked before I rest my back against it. My breath comes in pants, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
It couldn’t be him.
He can’t be here.
I have to be seeing things.
It doesn’t matter that I’m biting my lips to stop them; the tears still fall. First slowly, one running down my face, catching on my chin before falling to the ground. That is swiftly followed by another . . . and another. Before I know it my whole body is shaking. The walls of the stall feel like they are getting closer and closer, caging me in. And even as I try to think about anything else, his face hovers at the front of my mind. I take a few deep breaths and close my eyes, counting down from ten.
You’re okay.
You’re safe.
He can’t hurt you anymore.
I repeat that phrase to myself over and over until my breathing finally starts to even out. I wipe the few stray tears that escaped. The girls will be wondering what’s taking me so long and the last thing I want is for one of them to come looking for me and find me like this. While washing my hands, I make eye contact with myself in the mirror.
When you walk out there, he won’t be there.
He was never there.
Taking one more deep breath I walk out of the bathroom and see the prospect standing at the end of the hallway. Relief fills me, knowing that he’s close. As I near the end of the hallway I peer back into the bar.
It’s empty.
Walking back I keep my eyes on our table. My heart is hammering but my steps are slow and steady, with no hint of the fear that runs freely through my veins. By the time I take my seat my mask is firmly in place. I join in with the conversation and if any of them have a clue that I’ve just had a panic attack in a public bathroom stall because I thought I saw my psychotic husband, they say nothing.
Because, really, there’s nothing anyone can say.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jaz
The double doors to church are shut tight and have been for a while, so the girls and I are just hanging out in the main room. It’s been a couple of days since our shopping outing and other than me working at the club again, nothing out of the ordinary has happened. There are conditions, though. If Cutter can’t be there, I have a prospect posted outside the door. I have to admit, I feel bad for them. They have the craziest jobs.
“I’m gonna grab something to snack on.” I get up from the table and head into the kitchen.
As I’m rooting through the cupboards, I hear footsteps and turn to see one of the club girls. I’ve seen her around but have no idea what her name is. “You know you’re kidding yourself, right? You are not old lady material. All of us see it, and soon he will, too.”
Anger builds in me. Her statement brings out the insecurities I already have, but the last thing I need is having someone who doesn’t even know me throwing them in my face. Who is she to judge me? “Funny, because as far as I know, being a club slut is as far from old lady material that you can get.”
I mentally pat myself on the back for the comeback but keep my face neutral. I try to keep my attitude and composure like the girls have been telling me to.
“Slut? Aren’t you still married? At least I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m with multiple guys.” Her heavy lined eyes narrow and that word, married, is a direct hit to my chest. It's supposed to be such a happy word. For me, it was a sentence that I'm still serving.
"You need to get the hell away from me."
“Aw, did I hit a nerve?”
This girl is so focused on me, she doesn’t register Izzy walking up behind her.
But I do.
“Did you think no one would find out that you’re just whoring around with Cutter, cheating on your husband?”
My eyes move to Izzy. She makes a swinging motion with her fist. She wants me to hit her? Can I do that?
“I can’t wait till he drops your pathetic ass. He was always my favorite lay.” Her disgusting tongues traces her lips.
Oh, hell no.
Without even thinking, I swing my fist and connect with her nose. A spray of something hits my shirt and I look down, surprised at the red that covers me.
“Hell yes!” Izzy cheers, coming over to high-five me even as the girl screams, her hands cupping her face, blood running between her fingers and down her arm.
"Stay away from me."
“Damn, that was a good shot.” Izzy pretends to box the air, laughing as we walk back to the table.
Lucy looks over at us and her eyes widen. “Is that blood on your shirt?”
"Uh . . . yeah," I say.
Before I can say anything else, Izzy jumps in, recounting the incident blow by blow. “You should have seen it. Lips was running her mouth, saying some really screwed up crap, so Jaz let her have it. I think she might have broken her nose.” All of their mouths drop open. “That calls for a celebratory drink. You hit your first skank!” Izzy gets up and runs over to the bar.
“I cannot believe you did that. Good job.” Nikki shoves my shoulder.
“I can’t believe she didn’t hit me back.”
"She can't," Tracie interjects. "They run their mouths a lot, but putting their hands on one of us could get them thrown out on their ass."
“Oh.” Regret creeps in knowing that she couldn’t retaliate.
“Don’t you dare feel bad,” Lucy urges. “We’ve all been there. Those girls will push if they know you’ll take it. Now that you’ve given it to one of them, the rest should leave you alone.”
Izzy comes back with drinks. “A toast. To Jaz kicking ass—or in Lips’s case, nose.”
I eye the shot glass warily. “I don’t know. Last time you guys got me way too drunk.” They all look at me, and the peer pressure is real. “Fine, but just this one.”
We all sit around talking and the interaction really makes me miss my sister, Sara. These girls have really become a source of comfort as they have let me into their world. There is still an emptiness that only my family could fill.
The doors to church open and brothers begin filing out. I watch eagerly for Cutter. He’s
one of the last to appear, deep in conversation with Pres, but as soon as he spots me, he claps Pres on the back and makes his way over.
“I hope you guys aren’t trying to get my girl so drunk she busts up her face again.”
“Who, us?” Izzy laughs, hands to her chest. “Never.” She hides her crossed fingers behind her back and we all laugh.
He takes my hand and pulls me close to him. With his mouth against my ear, he asks, “You good? I wanted to take you somewhere.”
“Yeah, you caught us on drink one.” I smile and wave good-bye to the girls as I follow him outside.
“Any hints as to where we are going?”
“Nope, now climb on.” He hands me a helmet and I slide it on. Even though I haven’t been here long, I’m getting used to being on the back of his bike and relish every opportunity to sit behind him and wrap my arms around his middle.
We drive for longer than I ever have before, leaving the city limits and passing two more until he pulls into a residential neighborhood. The bike stops in front of a pretty house I don’t recognize in a beautiful neighborhood. I climb off the bike. My legs are stiff, leaving me feeling like Bambi trying to walk for the first time.
It’s quiet here, with nothing but birdsong and the distant sound of a lawnmower interrupting the peace. The house in front of me has a white picket fence and a bright red mailbox. It’s like looking at a picture. “Where are we?”
Cutter hangs both of our helmets on the bike, smiling at me. “Your family’s house. They’re expecting us for dinner.”
I turn back toward the door completely shocked by his admission. My eyes well with tears and disbelief. It’s been so long since I have seen them and I’ve missed them every single day. My chest hammers with nervousness as my heart fills with love for the man who has saved me in every way imaginable.
“How?”
“You said you missed them,” he says simply, as if that was enough for him to go to the trouble of tracking them down. It’s no secret that he has resources at his disposal, but the fact that he would do something like this . . . for me . . .
“I had Wrench track them down, and when I found out that they moved and only lived a couple hours from us, I called them and set this up. Sara has moved out and gotten married—they even have a little girl. Everyone is in there. Your mom misses you just as much as you miss her.”
I wrap my arms around him, tears slipping down my cheeks. “Thank you so much.”
Cutter takes my hand and we walk up to the house. We’re barely through the gate when the door flies open.
Mom.
My hands clutch at my throat and tears burn my eyes. She hasn’t changed. She’s even wearing the turtleneck sweater I remember teasing her about when I was younger, and even though her hair is peppered with gray, the style remains the same.
I run to her, throwing my arms around her.
Her voice is cracked and barely audible. “I missed you so much, Jasmine.”
Both of us start to cry, our hold on each other only becoming tighter.
“Come in please,” she says as she lets go and offers her hand out to Cutter. “I assume you’re Jason?”
She knows his real name?
"Yes, nice to meet you, Mrs. Sommer." He shakes her hand and then steps back, looking back and forth between us. “I can see where Jasmine gets her good looks.”
“Thank you for bringing our little girl back to us.” Mom takes my hand and pulls me into the house.
A figure hits me with such force, I fall back into Cutter, who keeps us upright. Even though I haven’t seen her for years, I’d know that perfume anywhere. I hold on tight, not ever wanting to let go. When I push back to look at my little sister, I’m stunned. Sara looks so grown up. A married woman, and a mother. Casey is two now, and looks just like her.
Looking around and realizing all the things I’ve missed hurts. Tears well in my eyes as I see that he took more from me than I already knew. I try to breathe and remember that at least now I will be there. I want to be a part of everything.
The next half hour is full of hugs, I missed yous, and I love yous. Cutter isn’t crowding me but he hovers in the background, making sure I’m okay. When I look back he’s smiling at me.
“Why don’t we all head into the dining room for dinner?” My dad leads the way and everyone follows.
Stealing a minute alone with him, I stop and turn to Cutter. “This is amazing. Thank you for giving it to me.”
His thumb brushes my cheek. “Seeing you this happy is all I wanted.” He kisses me and then takes my hand and leads me down the hallway and into the dining room. As we eat, they all fill me in on their lives and what has been going on. My emotions are out of control, and more than a few times I break down and Cutter has to squeeze my hand or pass me a tissue.
There’s a lull after we finish eating. I see the questions on everyone’s faces. They want to know what happened.
Why I stopped speaking to everyone.
Where Dylan went.
They want answers.
The strange thing is, with the place I’m at right now, I really don’t know that I’m ready to give them those answers, especially because a lot of it isn’t even done yet. Luckily Casey decides to throw a huge tantrum and take the spotlight off me.
With my niece settled with a jigsaw at my feet, I tell them about the girls and the brothers in the club. Cutter seems surprised when I use their real names, but I really don’t think telling my family I hang out with guys named Twisted, Whip, Lady, and Torch would go over very well.
Once dessert is done, and little Casey is starting to yawn and almost asleep on Sara's lap, the night draws to a close. It's a weekday so I'm sure they all have work tomorrow. With them being so close, though, I know that I won't let it be long until I see them again.
I turn to Cutter. “We should get back, it’s a long drive.”
I give my family the number to the phone that Cutter gave me and make them promise to call me tomorrow. They do and in turn make me promise to come by as often as I can.
Walking out of the house, I’m happier than I have ever been. I turn to the man who set this all up. The man who has done everything possible for me since he met me. He saved me when he got me away from Dylan, and now he’s helping me break free from the mental prison I’ve been living in. He claimed me so he could make sure I was protected. He made me his. I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I never imagined I would feel like this ever again. That I would be happy and have someone who cared about me, who made me feel so safe. You are the most amazing person I have ever met, and I thank God that he brought you to me.” I pause a moment, my heart in overdrive, an uncontrollable flush running up my skin, coloring my face and making my skin prickle as I say, “I love you.”
His head dips as he kisses me. "Thought I'd have to wait a lot longer to hear those words from you. From the first day you walked into my club, you had a hold on me that I couldn't explain. The more time you spend with me, the more I know that I need to have you by my side. I’m so proud of the person that you've grown into and what you’ve had to overcome. Calling you mine makes me so fucking proud. Love you, too, beautiful." I pull him close, resting my head against his chest, feeling his heart racing at the same pace as mine.
“Now get on my bike so I can take you home and show you just how much I love you.”
I smile at him, then climb onto the bike.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jaz
It’s been a week since Cutter took me to my family’s house. I’ve talked to Sara and my mom every day, and this weekend we’re going up there and staying for the night. I finally feel like all of the pieces of my life are falling and fitting into the perfect place.
Except for one.
We still haven’t been able to find Dylan. I’ve been trying not to worry about it because a part of me hopes that he saw the club and all the guys and knew he couldn’t get close to me, so he left town. That’s most likely not t
he truth, but it helps me sleep better at night. That, and having Cutter next to me.
Being in his arms, I’ve never felt safer. Telling him I loved him was scary but exciting. He makes me feel alive. When he isn’t around, it’s like a part of me is missing.
The boys are leaving today. None of us know where they’re going, or when they'll be back, but considering they’ve had church every day for the last three days, the girls all agree whatever it is, it's big, which puts all of us on edge. Seventy-five percent of the club is going on this run, which I’m told is a lot. Not that the clubhouse will be completely unprotected. A handful of prospects and a couple brothers have been allocated to watch both the club, and the old ladies and kids.
All of the girls are sitting together playing a game of cards when church lets out and the boys swarm around us.
Cutter pulls me to him. “We have to head out. The club is on lockdown. No work, no leaving the compound. Okay?” I can see the fear etched across his face and it’s completely sobering.
The other girls have talked about the hard times before. How bad things got, and the different lockdowns that have happened. They don’t seem all that concerned, but this is the first time for me and I’m not sure how to deal with all the fear and uncertainty. I want to ask Cutter what’s going on, but I know that he can’t tell me so I don’t even try.
The mood in the clubhouse is solemn. Where there is usually laughter and teasing, there are silent tears and hidden faces. Whatever this is, we all know there is a very good chance that someone will come back hurt, or, God forbid, not at all. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that everyone will make it through this safe.
Lucy, Izzy, and I spend the next few hours baking to keep our hands busy and our minds occupied, and although no one talks about the boys, they never leave our thoughts.
The smell coming from the ovens is amazing. More than once, the prospects have ducked their heads in, pretending they’re checking in on us, but we know they’re really just looking to see if there’s anything to eat yet. I’m just getting the final batch of cupcakes out of the oven when something sticky and wet hits me on the side of my face, sliding down my cheek, and landing with a plop on the tiled floor.
Mayhem (Deathstalkers MC Book 5) Page 16
