by Chiah Wilder
“Aren’t you going to kiss me before you leave?” Her small voice held hurt, sadness, and regret.
He spun around, went up to her, and gave her a quick peck on her lips, moving away before her raised arms hooked around his neck. He slammed the screen door and sprinted to his Harley. Clenching the handlebars, he switched on his engine and broke the sound barrier with his cams. He sped away, forcing himself not to look back. If he did he would go to her, and he didn’t want to. He had a funny feeling she was going to shatter his heart again. Hardness inched its way through him as he rode to the Devil’s Legions’ clubhouse to meet up with his Insurgents brothers.
* * *
She leaned against the kitchen counter looking out the window, hoping he’d turn around and smile at her as he rode away, but he didn’t. He hadn’t even looked back before he roared away.
Why did he have to bring up the future today? I was hoping we could ride into Abbeville, have lunch, stroll around the town, and hold each other. I love him so much, but I’m scared he’s going to run away from me when I tell him about all the lies and secrets I’ve kept in my heart. He deserves to know, but in telling him I’m pretty sure I’ll lose him forever. I can’t be selfish. If he walks away from me then he does. I love you so much, Roche.
She gripped the kitchen counter as she continued to stare out the window, hoping she’d see a flash of chrome come around the corner. He’d only been gone a few minutes and she was already missing him terribly. I can’t lose you, cher. I love you so much. He was everything she’d wanted. She breathed in deeply and vowed to talk to him when he came home and tell him everything she had in her heart—the past, the present, and, hopefully, the future. And she’d make sure nothing interrupted their conversation. That night would either be a new beginning for them, or their final good-bye. Either way, she had to come clean.
She pushed away from the counter and picked up her phone, sitting back down as she plugged in her mother’s phone number.
“Clotille? How wonderful to hear from you. How are you doing?”
“Okay. How are you, Mom?”
“Busy with all the different committees. I don’t know why I take on so much. How’s Frederick?”
She swallowed hard, then exhaled. “I’ve left him,” she whispered, waiting for her mother’s tirade of insults on what a fool she was.
“When? Why?”
“A few weeks ago. I couldn’t live with him anymore. It wasn’t working for me. I was dying inside.” Silence. If she didn’t hear her mother breathing, she’d have thought they’d been disconnected. “I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“Lafayette. I needed time to think before I called you. I was so confused. I know I’ve made the right decision. I can help you financially. I just couldn’t stay with him anymore,” her voice cracked at the end.
“When your father died in the arms of that trashy woman, I was mortified. But when he left us destitute after spending all the money on her and the gambling tables, I was devastated. I didn’t know how to be poor, and I was desperate to get my old life back. That’s why I pushed you into being with Frederick. He could help us financially, and he was able to help you get your life on track. He took care of everything. Now things are different. I’ve made some sound investments. I don’t need his money.”
“I also agreed to be the woman he wanted me to be. I did it primarily for the family. To give you a good life. I’m happy I’ve done that, at least.”
“If Frederick isn’t for you anymore, then you did right in leaving him.”
Clotille’s heart soared. “Do you really mean that, Mom?”
“Of course. Where are you staying?”
“With friends.”
“I insist that you come stay with me for as long as you like. I want to see you. It’s been too long.”
“I can come by to visit today if you’re not busy.”
“What time?”
“In an hour. Is that good?”
“Make it two hours. That’ll work much better.”
“See you soon.”
Clotille leaped up in the air after she slipped her phone in her pocket. With her mother and Armand in her court, that part of her life was unfettered, and it would make things more bearable if Rock ended up throwing her aside after they had their talk. She’d been so worried her mother would’ve been furious at her for leaving Frederick—the goose with the golden egg, as her mother had called him—that she almost didn’t call her. But she was so happy she had. She rushed to her room to fix up before she left.
Two hours later, Clotille paid the cab driver and walked up the stairs to her mother’s home. She rang the doorbell, her stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies. The door swung open and her mother greeted her with a wide smile. She looked older since Clotille had last seen her, but her forehead still had the perpetual crease that deepened when she was angry or upset. New frown lines had cropped up above her nose and the sides of her mouth. Her hair was still black and from the way her eyes stayed wide, Clotille guessed she’d had an eye lift fairly recently.
“Clotille, come in.” Her mother hugged her stiffly, then moved aside so she could enter. “Let’s go to the sun room. It’s so bright and lovely in there. How do you like my house?”
“It’s beautiful.” You’ve put Frederick’s money to good use. “Isn’t the house too big for just you?”
“I love mansions. The bigger, the better.” She laughed and led them to a sunny room filled with gorgeous plants and flowers. Overstuffed furniture gave the room a very homey feel. A pitcher of lemonade sat on the glass-topped coffee table, a plate of cookies beside it. “Help yourself.”
Clotille poured a glass of lemonade for both of them and then chitchatted with her mother. Every few minutes, her mother would look at her watch, and it was beginning to drive Clotille crazy. “Do you have to be somewhere?”
“No. Why?”
“You keep looking at your watch. I can leave if you need to go.”
“I have a committee meeting. It’s a charity that helps abused women and children. But the meeting’s not for another hour. Let me get some more lemonade.”
When her mother left, she picked up her phone and checked to see if Rock had called or texted. He hadn’t. Disappointment ran through her veins. She then sent him a text.
Clotille: Visiting @ my mom’s. She seems cool. Sorry I didn’t act 2 excited this morning about going back. I love u. I definitely want 2 go back with u 2 make a life with u. Before I can, we have 2 talk. When u get back 2nite, I have something VERY important 2 tell u. Then u decide if u still want me 2 come with u. Sorry for the long text. Let me know u got it. I ♥ u.
She waited with bated breath for his response, but it never came. He’s so pissed at me.
“Here you go. Freshly squeezed. By my maid, not me.” Mrs. Boucher laughed.
Clotille heard footsteps behind her and she craned her neck over her shoulder to see Armand walking toward them. She stood up and went to him when he entered the room, giving him a hug. To her surprise, stiffness greeted her, and she pulled back. “You’re looking good,” she said.
“Thanks.” He sneered at her, then went over and lightly kissed their mother on the cheek. “Have we come to any conclusion here?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“About you getting your fucking ass back to Aspen where you belong.”
Clotille’s face turned white and her stomach knotted. “What? I told you I’m not going back to Frederick. You told me you were cool with my decision and that it’s my life.”
“You really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you? Do you think for one minute that I’d let you ruin mine and Maman’s life because you can’t keep your legs closed? You love slumming it with white trash. You always have. So you spotted him at Frederick’s and you left Frederick for him?”
A sudden coldness hit at her core and she jerked her head back. Looking at her mother, she saw t
he cruel eyes that were all too familiar. “You both lied to me. You pretended that you supported me just so you could gang up on me and convince me to go back to Frederick. Well, I’m not, and I don’t have to stay here and listen to you.” She whirled around and began to walk away, but Armand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back.
“There’s no way you’re ruining this for me,” he hissed. “I’m sick of your fuckups and your spoiled brat ways. You’re just like Dad. You’ve both brought shame to our family.” His lips curled up. “I believe you have a visitor who wants to see you.”
The room began to spin and she grabbed onto the arm of the love seat to steady herself. Heaviness weighed her down as she tried desperately to calm her racing heart.
“Hello, pet.” His voice crawled all over her. “It’s time for you to come home. You’ve been a very naughty girl, making me come all the way to Louisiana to fetch you.” He paused and fear crept around her nerves as her knees buckled. She sat on the arm of the love seat, her heart sinking with every word he uttered. “And shacking up with that dirty biker. Tsk tsk. Yes, you’ve been very bad. You’ll have to be punished.”
Clotille pulled herself up and ran to her mother. “Get out of here or I’m going to call Rock.” Frederick kept approaching. “I mean it.” She fumbled in her pocket, trying to take out her phone, when her mother gripped her wrist like a vise. She stared at her mom.
“Frederick, come take this ungrateful little bitch and punish her good and hard.” Her mother’s words sucker punched her, the woman’s face a mask of anger and cruelty. Her too-red lips looked like a gash across her face. “Since you’re spreading your legs freely, it might as well be for a rich man rather than a dirty biker. You’ve always been a bad, spoiled girl.”
Frederick grabbed her roughly and pulled her to him. He whispered in her ear, “You fucking cunt. Did you really think you could leave me?”
Scanning the faces of her brother and mother, she knew they wouldn’t help her. They’d rather sell her to a life of hell than give up their lifestyle. How can this be my family? I wish Dad were here. She stifled a cry and willed herself to be calm, but as hard as she tried she couldn’t stop trembling.
Her mother stood up. “Frederick, take your naughty girl out of my house. I have a committee meeting I have to go to.” She passed by Clotille without looking at her.
“I’m not going with you!” Clotille made a dash for it, but Armand reached out and jerked her back. She screamed and struggled, but the more she screamed the brighter Frederick’s eyes grew. Then Armand had her arms pinned behind her back, and she watched in horror as Frederick took out a syringe. She squirmed until he hit her hard across the face. The intensity of the blow stunned her, and he quickly injected her.
Soon everything faded away.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Problems with your woman? Not givin’ you enough of that Southern charm the ladies around here are known for?” Bones nudged Rock with his elbow before he threw his third dart at the board. “Fuck yeah! Bullseye.” He raised his arm in the air.
“Fuckin’ luck, that’s all.” Rock picked up his three darts, each one landing further from the bullseye. He grumbled inaudibly and leaned against the wall. He took his phone out again and called Clotille. Again, no answer. He sent another text. “Want another drink?” he asked Bones.
“Is getting me drunk the only way you can beat me, bro?”
Rock scowled. “Do you want a fuckin’ drink or not?”
“Fuck, will you chill? Yeah, get me a Jack and a beer.” He picked up three more darts, then sat on one of the stools.
As Rock walked toward the bar, a pretty club girl came up to him and curled her hands around his arm. “Honey, you don’t need to be getting your own drinks. Just tell me what you want and I’ll bring it to you,” she drawled.
“No worries. I can get my own.” He shrugged her off and placed his order at the bar. Why the hell isn’t Clotille calling or texting me back? I know I acted like an asshole this morning, but this isn’t her style. Anyway, she told me to text her back. Is she playing a fuckin’ game with me? And what the fuck does she wanna talk to me about? I don’t wanna hear why she married Luc. She’s been tryin’ to explain that shit since we’ve got here. I just wanna start new. Damn, Clotille. Answer or fuckin’ text me! A bad feeling circulated through him, his insides tensing the longer he didn’t hear from her. He ambled back to Bones.
When he arrived, Chas, Axe, Wheelie, and Chicory were drinking at one of the tables and talking with Bones. “I’m just telling the guys how I’m beatin’ your ass.” Bones took the drinks Rock handed him. “I’m also sharing what a fuckin’ pussy you are with your long goddamned face ‘cause your woman’s not putting out.”
Before Bones finished his laugh, Rock had him by the throat, his back flat against the wall. “Don’t fuckin’ disrespect my woman. You don’t know shit.” He tightened his grip around Bones’s neck until Chas and Wheelie pulled him off.
Bones gulped air and coughed as he threw daggered looks at Rock. “What the fuck is your problem?” He lunged for Rock and the two of them threw a few punches until the surrounding brothers pulled them apart.
“Will the two of you fucking calm down? What the hell?” Chas shoved Rock away from Bones.
“I don’t like what he’s saying about Clotille. And I’m fuckin’ worried about her ‘cause she’s not answering my calls or texts. Shit!” He kicked over a couple stools, then tipped over the bar table. Several dudes from the Devil’s Legions came over to see what all the ruckus was about.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Catfish asked.
Axe and Wheelie went up to the host members. “It’s cool. Our brother’s just worried about his woman,” Axe said.
“Need some help with it?” another member asked.
Rock shook his head and they sauntered away. “Something’s not right,” he said after the dudes were out of earshot. “My gut’s telling me that.”
Bones came over and gripped his shoulder. “Wouldn’t have ribbed you if I knew your mood was because you were worried. Sorry, bro.” Rock tilted his chin. “Why do you think something’s up with her? Maybe she’s just pissed or teaching you a lesson for something you did.”
“Women love doing that,” Chas said. “My wife’s the queen of the cold shoulder, and it’s fuckin’ effective ‘cause it drives me crazy and I always fuckin’ give in. Am I right, Axe?”
Axe chuckled. “Yep. Baylee must’ve taken lessons from Addie ‘cause she can go hours acting like I’m not in the same fuckin’ room. Damn. How the hell do women do that?”
All the other brothers but Rock sniggered. “I don’t think that’s what’s going on here. If she were doing that shit, she wouldn’t have texted me that she was at her mother’s and ask me to confirm the text. Fuck! I didn’t really want her to go alone to visit her mom. I don’t trust the fuckin’ bitch.”
“What’s going on here?” Hawk asked as he walked up to the group.
“Rock thinks his woman’s in trouble,” Chas replied.
“Do you know what kind of trouble?” Hawk leaned against the table.
Rock nodded. “If something’s wrong—and my gut’s telling me it is—I know it involves that rich fuck we did the stint for in Aspen.”
“Frederick Blair?” Hawk scrubbed his face. “He’s the one you think killed your mother, and he’s the one who wanted to sell the weapons to the Demon Riders. Why’s his goddamned name all over the fuckin’ place?”
“He wants Clotille back. I know he’s been supporting her mother and she’s a greedy bitch, so I wouldn’t put anything past her. I’m going to go over there and see if my woman’s still there. It’s been a few hours since she texted me.”
“You want me to go with you?” Bones said.
Rock shook his head. “No, I gotta do this on my own.” He scanned his brothers’ faces, a warm feeling spreading through him. They were ready to charge with him to the mean bitch’s house and help him find his woman
. He could always count on their loyalty and support no matter what. He pounded his fist against his chest a couple times, then headed out the door.
As he was about to switch on his Harley, Hawk came over to him. “You let us know what you find out about your woman. If this fucker is in town, I wanna know.”
“Sure thing.” They locked gazes for a few seconds and an understanding passed between them that the brothers were behind him and waiting to help in any way they could, even if it wasn’t club business. Rock broke eye contact, switched on the ignition, and rode away.
After the second ring, he tried several bump keys that made getting into places a lot easier. The third one he used unlocked the door and he entered the house. Everything was quiet and he silently padded his way through the whole house looking for Clotille. No one was there. He went into one of the rooms that looked like an office and started rifling through the papers on top of the desk. Thumbing through a desk calendar, he noticed several notations that Mrs. Boucher had spoken to Frederick—one as recent as a couple of days before.
I fuckin’ knew it! I wonder if he’s taken Clotille back to Aspen. Fuck!
As he rummaged through the desk trying to find more information, he heard a door close. He froze as heels clacked on the floor. He hid behind the door and waited until the footsteps grew fainter, then quietly followed them to the other end of the house. He saw the woman he’d hated all through his growing years, the one who beat Clotille, underpaid his mother, and treated him like white trash.
Mrs. Boucher bent over and took off her high heels before massaging her foot. He waited until she straightened up and then came up behind her, grabbing her with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. She kicked and twisted, but he held her like a ragdoll. He let her carry on for a few minutes, and then he yanked her head back hard and snarled, “You’re going to get one chance to tell me the truth. If you don’t, I’ll fuckin’ peel your skin off before I rip out your intestines. Where the fuck is Clotille?” He put his hand over her throat and squeezed it hard before releasing.
