Rake's Redemption (Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club)

by Chantal Fernando

  It’s been years, I tell myself over and over again.

  The past can hurt me only if I let it.

  I need to be stronger.

  When I get my breathing under control, I pull myself together, have a long, hot shower, and then go and pick up a sleeping Cara from Tia’s house. I put her in bed next to me, cuddling close.

  But even then, sleep doesn’t come.

  All I do is replay his words in my head, over and over again, in a loop.

  The only thing I did was trust a woman who obviously couldn’t keep her legs closed. The only thing I did wrong. The only thing.

  He has no idea, and it’s my fault he doesn’t.

  The truth is, I’ve been protecting someone who doesn’t deserve it. Adam’s anger, bitterness, and venom—I don’t deserve them.

  Why don’t I just tell him? I don’t want to go back there, but I can’t keep going on like this either.

  The truth will set me free, but it will enslave Rake.

  I don’t want to hurt him, but right now all I’m doing is hurting myself.

  What the hell am I going to do?

  * * *

  The next time I see Adam is several weeks later. In the wrong place at the wrong time, again.

  After picking up Cara from school and then taking her to her dance class, I was too tired to cook, so I decided to stop at one of the diners we pass on the way home. Had I paid attention and seen the two bikes out front, I would have turned around. But I didn’t. So here I am, sitting across the booth from my daughter, waiting for our orders, while Adam and one of his biker friends sit with two women, eating, laughing, and being generally obnoxious. They haven’t seen me yet, and I hope to keep it that way.

  “How was your class today, Mom?” Cara asks me sweetly.

  My expression softens as I look at her, my worries fading away. “It was great, Cara. My students learned a new letter of the alphabet. How was your day?”

  “Good!” she beams. “It was library day, so I got a new book.”

  “Which book did you get?” I ask her, just as a waitress brings us our drinks.

  “Thank you,” I tell the young girl, then look at my daughter expectantly.

  “Thank you,” Cara tells her, then starts to sip on her milk shake.

  “You’re welcome.” The girl smiles, then leaves our table.

  “It’s a book about a unicorn,” Cara continues, wiping the milk off her lips with the back of her hand. “Can we read it tonight?”

  “Sure,” I tell her, playing with the straw in my juice. “After dinner and bath time.”

  I suddenly feel eyes on me, and I try my hardest not to look in their direction. From their angle, they can see me but not Cara.

  Maybe he’ll just pretend that he doesn’t know me.

  Or is that just wishful thinking?

  I hear Adam’s friend, the bald guy, call out, “Where are you going, Rake?”

  Shit.

  Is he coming over here?

  I don’t want to look over and check.

  Would he be rude to me in front of my daughter?

  I’d kill him if he did that, but to be honest I don’t think he would.

  “What are you doing here, Bailey? Why are you there every time I turn around?” I hear him growl. I can now feel everyone in the diner staring at me. Goddamn the man. Did he have to be so loud? Adam never did care what people thought, but I don’t want to get attention like this with my daughter here.

  I don’t even lift my head. “What? Do you own this diner too?”

  “Cute,” he replies, voice closer now. “I could if I wanted to.”

  Egotistical bastard.

  I look up to see him almost at our table. “Well, until you do own it, you should probably just leave me alone.”

  “Who are you here with?” he asks, then comes to a stop when he sees Cara sitting there, peering up at him with curious brown eyes.

  “Who’s the hottie, Rake?” his friend calls out.

  Adam turns to his friend and says, “Shut the . . .” He turns to look at Cara, an apologetic expression on his face, then takes a seat next to me, opposite her.

  “You never told me you had a kid,” he says to me, tone gentler now as he studies her intently.

  “How do you know she’s mine?” I ask him.

  “She looks just like you,” he says, giving Cara a little smile. “I’m Ra— I’m Adam. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Cara,” my daughter replies, flashing Adam an unsure look.

  “That’s a pretty name,” he tells her sincerely. “And how old are you, Cara?”

  I know exactly where Adam is going with this, but he’s wrong. Cara isn’t his child.

  “I’m six.”

  I can almost see him mentally calculating how long it’s been since we were together. If she were Adam’s, she’d have to be at least seven years old.

  “She’s not yours,” I say under my breath, so only he can hear me, trying to put him out of his misery.

  “Of course she isn’t,” he says in a soft, yet bitter tone.

  He has no idea. None.

  Let him be bitter—I couldn’t care less. I owe him nothing.

  Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

  Our food arrives, and Adam waits quietly as the waitress sets it down.

  “Thank you,” Cara tells her politely, while I do the same. She smiles, then winks at Adam before she leaves. I ignore the stroke of jealously that hits me, because it has no right to be there.

  “Listen, Bailey,” he starts, looking a little uncomfortable. “Anna and Lana haven’t spoken to me properly since that night. . . .”

  He rubs the back of his neck, then watches Cara as she picks up a fry and pops it in her mouth. “Would you like some, Adam?” she asks, always considerate.

  “No, thank you,” he tells her, smiling. “You’re a polite little thing, aren’t you? Your dad must be proud.”

  Cara’s face suddenly drops, and I kick Adam’s leg with my left foot.

  “I don’t have a dad,” she whispers sadly.

  Adam’s expression softens. “Well, then it’s his loss, because you are one pretty, kind little girl.”

  Cara lifts her face. “That’s what Mom says too.”

  “Your mom is right,” Adam says, then turns to me while Cara continues to eat. “My own sister won’t give me the time of day. Lana gives me evil looks I didn’t even know she was capable of. They want to see you. I’ll stay away, all right? You have your girls’ nights, or whatever. As long as a few of the men are there with all of you, I won’t cause any shit.”

  “It’s fine—”

  “Bailey,” he says, sighing. “They want to be around you as much as you want to be around them.”

  I nod my head, giving in. “Okay then. I’d like that.”

  “And Bailey?”

  “Yes?”

  I don’t miss the way his jaw tightens. “Stay away from Talon.”

  I open my mouth but then close it. I’m not going to justify that comment with a response. I will stay away from Talon because I don’t like him like that, not because he tells me so. I also don’t want to start any unnecessary trouble with everyone, especially for Anna and Lana.

  He nods his head, like he knows he’s gotten his point across, then looks to my daughter. “Nice to meet you, Cara.”

  “You too, Adam.”

  He pushes back his chair, stands, and returns to his table. The four of them leave moments later.

  I try not to look at the beautiful woman by Adam’s side.

  Every time I’ve seen him, he’s been with a different woman. Are they so replaceable to him? Just like I was. It hits me just how much he’s changed, how much I don’t know about him anymore.

  He really isn’t Adam anymore.

  He’s Rake.

  When Cara and I finish eating, I go to pay the bill, only to find out it’s already been settled.

  Is that his way of saying sorry?

  I don
’t know.

  I don’t want to think about him at all.

  SIX

  ANYONE who says men don’t gossip is lying.

  After getting phone calls from both Anna and Lana, demanding to know why they had to find out from Rake that I have a daughter, I told them I’d meet them tonight to catch up. Not over alcohol, but dinner instead. I told them I’d cook, so they could come over to my house.

  I decided to make sushi, because I remembered Anna loved it, and some homemade spring rolls and a few other bites. Cara and I often cook together, trying new recipes. She loves to help bake cakes and other sweets, so we both made a red velvet cake with cream cheese icing for dessert. After finishing up in the kitchen, I take a quick shower and get dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt that’s tight around my boobs and a little loose around my stomach. I give Cara a bath and put her in her favorite pink pajamas.

  “Your hair is getting so long,” I tell her as I gently brush it.

  “I know,” she beams. “I like it. It’s like yours, almost.”

  I smile at that. “It is. Maybe it will get even longer than mine.”

  A knock at the door has me standing up and putting the brush down. “That will be them. Perfect timing.”

  I walk to the front door with Cara next to me. Unlocking the door, I open it to see the beautiful faces of Anna and Lana, one of them carrying a bottle of wine, the other a wrapped gift.

  “Hello,” I say, smiling and opening the door wider. They step inside, each giving me a warm hug and a hello before turning their attention to Cara.

  “Aren’t you beautiful? I’m Anna, and this is for you,” Anna says, giving Cara the gift. Cara, with wide eyes, thanks them, then turns to me for approval.

  “You can open it if you like,” I tell her, trying to hide a smile. “You guys didn’t have to do that.”

  “We wanted to,” Lana says, holding up the bottle of wine. “We bought red wine too.”

  “I can see that.” I laugh. “Come on, let’s go sit down. Do you want something to eat now? Or do you want to wait until later?”

  “What did you make?” Anna asks curiously, checking out the inside of my house.

  “I made your favorite,” I tell her, smiling and nodding my head toward the kitchen.

  Her perfectly arched eyebrows lift. “No way. You made sushi?”

  I grin but don’t say anything, so she runs into the kitchen to find out for herself. I hear her cheering, which makes me laugh and Lana shake her head in amusement.

  “Look, Mom! A new doll! She’s so pretty!” Cara calls out from the floor, surrounded by a pile of ripped wrapping paper. “Thank you, I love her!”

  “You’re welcome, Cara,” Lana says, sitting down on the couch. “She’s gorgeous, Bailey, looks just like you. Rake said as much.”

  “He did?” I ask, getting caught off guard at her bringing him up so soon.

  “Yeah,” Anna says, walking into the living room with a plateful of sushi. “He couldn’t stop raving about her. And holy shit, this sushi is amazing.” She pauses and cringes. “I mean, holy crap.”

  “Make yourself at home Anna,” Lana says, sarcasm lacing her tone.

  I laugh. “My home is your home, as always.”

  Anna sits down and picks up a piece from her plate. “This place is great, Bailey.”

  I look around at my white walls and cream furniture. “Thank you. How have you guys been? Adam said you were giving him a hard time.”

  Anna smirks, a devilish look taking over her expression. “He can’t choose who we’re friends with. You’re not just some random chick; you’re an old friend, and he’s just going to have to get used to the fact that you’re going to be a permanent fixture in our lives now.”

  “You guys . . .” I say softly, a rush of emotions hitting me.

  “Oh, don’t get all mushy on me,” Anna says, smiling. “Lana, I think we need some wine.”

  I stand up. “I’ll get some glasses.”

  I head into the kitchen and return with three wineglasses, a corkscrew, and a juice box for Cara. I turn the radio on for some background music, then return to my seat.

  Lana pours the wine. “To not letting men win!”

  We clink glasses, then each take a gulp.

  * * *

  After Cara falls asleep and I carry her to bed, the interrogation begins.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you had a daughter?”

  “Who is the father?”

  “How long were you with him for?”

  “Is there any chance she’s Rake’s?”

  I hold my hands up. “Calm down, both of you. I didn’t tell you because I knew I’d have to answer a million questions about who her father is, and to be honest I wasn’t ready for Rake to find out.”

  Lana looks a little contrite, but Anna simply says, “Tell us!”

  I put my glass down on the table. “After Adam and I broke up, I moved away from home and did a little traveling. Worked in bars, or whatever I could find at the time.”

  Really, I’d been fucked-up. I was in so much emotional pain. I would do anything to get rid of it, anything to distract myself. Usually, I found my distraction with other men.

  “I ended up in a town called Channon. It’s a country town about ten hours from here. Anyway, I met this guy, Wade. We ended up sleeping together a couple of times, and I got pregnant with Cara. Things didn’t work out, so I moved back here. That’s it. There’s no big story, and she isn’t Adam’s child.”

  Anna looks slightly disappointed, like she expected a better story.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Anna,” I tell her, laughing quietly.

  “Where is Wade now?” Lana asks, studying me curiously.

  “In Channon,” I explain. “He doesn’t have any contact with Cara. Just another deadbeat dad.”

  Lana and Anna both nod in understanding. I know neither of them had their fathers in their lives when they were growing up either, just like Cara won’t. I had my dad with me all the time, up until I was thirteen, when he and my mom divorced. After that, he visited every weekend until he passed away from a heart attack when I was sixteen.

  “I was kind of hoping she was Rake’s,” Anna admits, cheeks flushing guiltily. “I don’t know why, but I was.”

  I roll my eyes at that. “She isn’t.”

  This isn’t some romance where everything works out in the end, and the hero and the heroine end up together in a happily ever after only someone with a big imagination could formulate.

  “She looks just like you,” Anna muses out loud. “She’s stunning.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her, smiling. “She definitely is something. Do you two want something else to drink?” I ask, looking at the now-empty bottle of wine.

  “What do you have?” Anna asks, standing up.

  My lips kick up at the corners in a wolfish grin. “We could make some cocktails.”

  “I like this idea,” Lana says, rubbing her hands together. We all head into the kitchen, and I pull out whatever alcohol I can find, while the girls look for other ingredients in the fridge.

  “Remember when we used to do this before parties in high school?” Anna says, washing the fruit. “Everyone had to make a drink, and then we all had to taste it, to see who could come up with the best one.”

  “Except Adam used to make them disgusting on purpose, just so we had to drink it,” I say, smiling fondly. “He’d put peanut butter and stuff like that in them. It was gross.”

  Anna and Lana laugh. “Yeah, but he used to drink yours for you, Bailey, so it was only us who had to suffer!”

  I open the half-filled bottle of vodka and smirk. “Girlfriend benefits.”

  “I’m his sister!” Anna fires back, her shoulder shaking with laughter. “Where’s the loyalty?”

  “Exactly,” Lana adds. “His job was to harass your life.”

  “Well, he succeeded,” Anna grumbles, but the smile playing on her lips says otherwise. Adam is a great big brother, there’s no d
oubt about that. He always treated Anna like gold.

  “Do you have any mint?” Lana asks, concentrating on slicing the lime thinly.

  “I don’t think so,” I reply. “Do you feel like Anna has the upper hand here? She used to work at Knox’s Tavern and she’s a scientist.”

  “And she drinks the most out of all of us,” Lana says, nudging Anna with her shoulder. “Yeah, she has us at an advantage.”

  “Wait, did this turn into a competition? I thought we were just talking about old times, but if we’re going to relive them, game on!” Anna cheers.

  “Who is going to be the judge?” I ask, finding the whole thing amusing.

  “Arrow—”

  “Hell no,” I cut her off. “That’s not fair.”

  “Well someone has to come and pick us up,” Lana says, shrugging. “Whoever it is can be roped into being the judge. We won’t tell him whose drink is whose.”

  “Deal!” Anna calls out, doing a little dance.

  “We’re so mature,” I muse out loud, pulling out the blender and mentally selecting ingredients. If it’s Adam picking them up, I know he loves citrus flavors, so I’ll definitely do something with orange or lemon.

  “You’re a teacher,” Lana points out. “Educating the youth of today to become tomorrow’s leaders.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m off duty,” I huff.

  “And you’re about to get schooled,” Anna teases, then tilts her head to the side, her blond hair falling over her cheek. “I feel like we need a time limit or something. This competition is getting fierce.”

  “Ten minutes!” I call out, slamming my hand down on the table. “And tell whoever is picking you up to get his ass over here for taste testing.”

  “Wait,” Lana says, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “What does the winner get?”