Rake's Redemption (Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club)

by Chantal Fernando

  He has no idea.

  No fucking idea.

  And here I am, trying to protect him from the truth.

  Why?

  Why am I putting him before myself?

  Why am I protecting a man who has no trouble throwing what he thinks I did in my face over and over again?

  I spin around and stalk back toward him. “You know what? Let’s get this all out in the open.”

  “Let’s,” he says, looking down on me. “We had a fight, like we always did. You went to some fuckin’ party to get back at me and fucked the first guy who looked your way, didn’t you?”

  At this point, I’m seeing red.

  I’m fucking seething.

  No, I’m bleeding.

  Can’t he see the blood practically dripping from every ounce of my being?

  I’m transported back to that night seven years ago. The night that changed everything.

  I shake my hips, letting the ruffles from my skirt swivel around me. Christa hands me another drink.

  “This is my last one,” I tell her over the music. I need to get back to Adam, because I know he’s probably searching for me right now. In an act of rebellion after Adam and I had a fight, I decided to take up Christa’s offer on coming to this party, but I didn’t intend to stay long. I didn’t like going anywhere without Adam, to be honest; no matter how needy that made me sound, it was the truth. Not only did he make me feel safe, but he’s also my best friend. How many girls are lucky enough to say the same?

  “You never do anything fun.” Christa pouts. “It’s like you’re a married woman.”

  My lips tighten. She doesn’t know me well enough to make that evaluation, but I also didn’t like this bitch judging me. We weren’t good friends or anything, more like acquaintances.

  “One that everyone is jealous of,” I throw out there. Everyone wanted to be Adam and me; it wasn’t a secret. I’ve seen the looks of envy from the other girls. Adam is the hottest boy in school, and he’s all mine.

  Christa’s expression drops for a second, before it becomes a mask. I know in this moment I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I was being stupid to even consider it. I throw back the rest of my drink, wiping my mouth with my hand, and pull out my phone and turn it on, about to call Adam to come and pick me up. But then, suddenly, I don’t feel so well.

  “Christa,” I mumble. “Can you get me some water, please?”

  “Sure,” she says, leaving me alone on the upstairs balcony of the house. How much did I have to drink? I suddenly feel drunk, too drunk for what I’d consumed tonight. I fumble with my phone but have difficulty getting my fingers to work.

  What the fuck?

  “A-Adam,” I whisper to myself.

  Everything goes black.

  * * *

  When I come to, it’s like I’m in a horror movie. My vision is blurred and my head is dizzy. I’m on my back on a bed. I stare at the ceiling. There are cracks on there. I don’t know why I focus on those, but I do. A man is on top of me.

  I try to scream, but nothing comes out.

  I struggle.

  I feel nauseous.

  I feel weak.

  Through the loud noise, the buzzing in my head, I hear his voice, and I smile.

  Adam has come to save me.

  He will make everything better.

  Only he doesn’t.

  Instead, he just leaves me to my hell.

  * * *

  This is it. I have to tell him now. Fuck him and what he thinks he knows.

  “We fought, yes. I went to a party, yes. I had about two drinks, and then I was going to call you to come pick me up. I didn’t want to be there; I wanted to be with you.” I take a deep breath, knowing the next part was going to be extremely hard to get out. Rake watches me expectantly, his expression giving away nothing.

  “Christa gave me the drinks,” I continue. “You know I didn’t know her well. She seemed like a fun girl, although I did see her checking you out, but then, all the girls did.” I laugh without humor. “I was fucking drugged, Adam. Roofied. I blacked out and when I came to, I was being raped. I was completely out of it. When I heard you coming into the room—I thought you were there to save me. But. You. Left. Me.”

  I hit his chest with my hand. “You fucking left me! You were supposed to save me! Why didn’t you save me?”

  Tears start to drip down my cheeks, and finally I allow them to fall. I don’t hide them; I don’t suppress them; I embrace them. I accept them. These tears, they are me, my pain. A symbol of my suffering. And as I let them drip, I set myself free, a weight lifted at last. I can actually feel the moment the pain shifts from me to him.

  His expression crumbles, brows furrowing. His eyes fill with pain, an expression of all-consuming horror spreading over his handsome face.

  He feels it.

  He rubs his chest with his palm.

  Yeah, he feels it.

  I didn’t want to tell him, I didn’t, but now it’s done. He knows. The thing is, no matter what, he knows one fact about me. One fact that was always true, from the day he met me, to the day I’ll die.

  I never lie.

  “And the worst part,” I say through my tears. “Is after all that. You slept with the girl who drugged me. And you flaunted it in front of me.”

  “Bailey,” he whispers, the one word so broken, so raw, and so filled with pain that I want to hold him, but I don’t.

  Because this time, I need to protect myself.

  I run to my room and lock the door behind me.

  Then, I bury my face in my pillow and simply cry.

  SEVENTEEN

  Rake

  I SIT on the floor in front of her locked door, my head in my hands, and listen to her cry, each whimper destroying a part of my soul.

  But I listen, because I deserve to hear each sob. Each fuckin’ tear on that pillow is because of me.

  Every word she said replays in my head on a loop.

  How did I fuck up so badly?

  How did I do something like this to the one person I loved more than anyone else on this earth?

  I think back to that night, trying to figure out where I went wrong.

  “Hey, Adam,” Elizabeth, a girl in my English class says as she slides up to me. I spare her a glance and a lift of my chin before stepping away from her and walking to the front door of Jesse’s house. The loud music hits my ears as I open the unlocked door and step inside. There are people everywhere, both familiar faces and unknown ones. Jesse always throws parties; his parents go away a lot and don’t give a shit about what he does as long as the place is cleaned up before they get home. Bailey and I would usually make an appearance together, spend a little time with our friends before sneaking off to be alone. The last party we were at, we left early and went swimming together at the lake instead. I smile as I remember how she’d stripped down and thrown her clothes in my face before diving into the water.

  “Hey, Adam!” my friend Tristan calls as he walks down the staircase.

  “Hey, Tris,” I call out over the music, walking in his direction. We shake hands before I get right to the point of the reason I’m here. “Have you seen Bailey?”

  Tristan shakes his head. “Haven’t seen her.”

  My lips tighten. “Heard she’s here.”

  “Everything all right?” he asks, brows furrowing.

  I cringe. “We had an argument.”

  Tristan grins knowingly and slaps me on the back. “You check upstairs. I’ll look out back for her.”

  “Thanks, man,” I tell him, already starting up the stairs. Bailey has been my girlfriend since I first laid eyes on her four years ago. Aside from my baby sister, Anna, Bailey is the only woman I’ve truly cared for. Today we had the biggest fight we’ve ever had, and I won’t be able to relax until I sort this shit out with her.

  Her phone is off, and I need to make sure she’s okay. Bailey can be a little reckless at times, and it’s not unusual for me to have to save her from some situation
or another. She’s spirited and passionate, and I like that about her. She sure as hell was passionate about her anger during our fight today. I smile to myself as I remember her tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, full of sass, her brown eyes narrowed and filled with fire. I can’t even remember what we were fighting about now. I just know that she has me twisted around her little finger, and she doesn’t even know it. It’s always been that way when it comes to Bailey. She’s my first love, and even though we’re still young, I know it’s a real love. People can say what they like—it doesn’t bother me. I’m not the type to claim love for the first girl I see.

  But Bailey isn’t just any girl.

  More than eager to find her and make amends, I make my way to the second story of the house and look around for a glimpse of her. My anger sparks at the thought of her here, without me, surrounded by all these men. Our makeup sex is going to be hot tonight, that’s for damn sure.

  “Have you seen Bailey?” I ask Christa. She’s a friend of Bailey’s, or at least I’ve seen them chatting now and again. I didn’t tell Bailey that the bitch has tried to hook up with me many times over the years, but I’ve shut her down every single time.

  Christa nods, her eyes bright. “Yeah, I have. She’s in the third room.”

  She points to the right. “I don’t think you’re going to want to go in there though,” she says. Her smile has a hint of cruelty behind it.

  “Why the fuck not?” I growl, losing my temper. I storm to the door, a bad feeling settling in my gut. I turn the handle, but the door is locked, so I punch the bastard down.

  The sight before me breaks my fucking heart.

  My soul.

  It destroys me.

  For a second, I don’t understand what I’m seeing. Why would she do this? No, how could she do this?

  I don’t look at her face. I can’t. All I see is red, and all I feel is broken.

  I don’t know if she’s said anything this entire time—there’s just a loud noise buzzing in my ears. My feet carry me into the room, my rage acting on my behalf. I don’t feel anything, adrenaline pumping through me, my fists turned to iron.

  I leave, my body shaking, my hands covered in blood.

  I don’t even remember how the blood got there.

  So this is what betrayal feels like.

  * * *

  It all makes sense now. I’m a fuckup. How did I not see it?

  Over the years, all the women, the way I treated sex, was because of how my world changed when I thought Bailey cheated. I cut her out of my life, didn’t talk to her even when she tried to talk to me. I couldn’t even look at her—it hurt too much. Little did I know, it was me who should have been at her feet, begging for her to forgive me. I didn’t trust women, and although I love women, I was never in love with another.

  I couldn’t give away something that belonged to a ghost.

  Now she’s returned, and I find this out?

  Fuck.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and allow myself this moment of weakness.

  This here.

  I created this.

  That woman there, I broke her.

  If I could go back in time . . .

  I should have taken her out of that room, no matter what I thought she was doing, because she was mine. I was a fuckin’ coward. I was no better than the fucker who hurt her.

  Why did I leave without her?

  Bailey cries harder.

  And for the first time since I can remember, so do I.

  I don’t deserve anything from her. How can she stand the sight of me? The things I’ve done, things she doesn’t even know about. The things I’ve thought about her, wished on her.

  I lift my head and lean it against her door, a tear dripping off my chin.

  Whoever hurt her will pay.

  I will destroy them, one by one.

  Myself included.

  Bailey

  I always get a headache after I cry, and after completely breaking down, my head is pounding something fierce. Wiping my eyes, I sit up and open my bedside drawer, looking for some painkillers. When I find some, I pop out two, place them in my hand, and walk to my door, unlocking it and opening it. When I walk to the kitchen and pour some water in a glass, Rake isn’t anywhere to be seen, and I, for one, am thankful. I couldn’t face him right now.

  I don’t know if I did the right thing or not by telling him the truth about what happened, but at the same time I feel lighter. The only problem is, I feel lighter because I shared the burden with him, almost giving it to him. Now he has to carry this around with him too. I know it’s not selfish of me, but I still feel that way. I put some makeup on, trying to make myself look a little better before picking up Cara from her dance class. When I walk outside and see Tracker standing there, I know Rake has sent him in his place to escort me.

  I’m both relieved and disappointed.

  “Hey,” I say to him, forcing a smile.

  “Hey,” he replies, blue eyes scanning my face. “Everything okay?”

  I nod and look to the side of him. “Yeah. You don’t need to take me, you know. I’m just picking up Cara and coming back home.”

  He scratches his stubble with his thumb. “Oh, come on now, don’t be like that. I’m great company.”

  That gets him a small smile. Out of all of the men, Tracker is the easiest to be around. I can see why Lana would fall for him.

  “I’m sure you are,” I say, grinning when he opens the door for me.

  “Let’s go pick up the angel.”

  “I see the nickname is catching on,” I say before I slide in.

  He walks around and gets into the driver’s seat. “It definitely is. I also hear there’s likely to be an ice-cream stop. I’m all over that shit.”

  “Is that how Rake got you on board for escort duty?” I ask, feeling a little amused.

  Tracker chuckles and shrugs. “What can I say, the man knows his audience.”

  I look at him and check him out. “I really like your man bun.”

  He turns to me and smirks, eyes twinkling. “Find me a woman who doesn’t.”

  I roll my eyes. “All of you are so cocky.”

  “Confident, more like,” he replies. “Now where exactly is Angel’s dance studio?”

  I give him the directions. Tracker fills the car with casual conversation and playful jokes that put me at ease, forgetting about the scene with Rake.

  * * *

  “No, you hang up,” Tracker says into the phone, as I stare at him in disgust. I pluck the phone out of his hand and press END.

  “Are you kidding me?” I laugh, putting my hand behind my back so he can’t grab the phone. “You’re a big, scary biker. Act like it!”

  “Your stereotypes hurt, you know that?” he says with mock pain in his tone, placing his palm over his heart. “We’re just misunderstood.”

  Tia laughs, looking away from the TV to see the commotion. “I might need to get some advice from Lana. Seems that girl knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  Tracker nods and smirks. “Yeah, she does. She does this thing with her tongue—”

  I put my hand up, laughing harder. “Okay, that’s enough.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Tia asks Tracker, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on her knees.

  “Possibly.”

  “Is Talon single? What’s his deal?” she asks, watching him and waiting for his answer.

  I know Tia thinks Talon is a babe, and I mean, he is, but I don’t know if she wants to take it further. I know that look on her face. She’s interested, or at least intrigued.

  Tracker scowls and scoots forward on the couch. “What? None of the Wind Dragons good enough for you? You know Talon’s MC is full of fuckheads, right?”

  I hide my smile. “Who would you suggest for her?”

  Tracker purses his lips in thought. “What about Vinnie? He’s a great guy. There, it’s settled. Vinnie is your man. Fuck those Wild Men.” He jabs a finger in Tia’s direction. �
��Not literally.”

  “Did you just pimp out one of your brothers?” I deadpan. “I’m sure that has to break some sort of manly code.”

  “It breaks the code if the woman is ugly,” he says casually. “But Tia’s a MILF, so he’d be thanking me.”

  “What’s a MILF?” Rhett asks as he comes into the room with Cara next to him.

  I try not to laugh, I really do, but I can’t help it.

  “Yeah, Tracker. Please explain what that word means,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

  “MILF,” Tracker starts slowly, “isn’t what I said at all. I said MILK. It stands for mother I’d like to kiss.”

  Rhett blinks, then looks between Tracker and his mom. “I don’t think I’d like you kissing my mom.”

  I bite my lip and stare wide-eyed as Tracker agrees. “Just on the cheek, bud. Like friends do, yeah?”

  Rhett smiles. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

  Awkward situation averted.

  Rhett heads into the kitchen, but Cara stands there, staring at Tracker curiously.

  “You didn’t say MILK,” she announces. “But it’s okay, I won’t tell.”

  She then follows Rhett to the kitchen.

  And we all burst out laughing.

  * * *

  It’s been three days since Rake and I had our blowup, and I haven’t seen him since. Tracker has been staying here, only swapping with Arrow when he goes to the clubhouse to see Lana. Lana, Anna, Faye, and Clover have all moved back into the clubhouse until we know everything is safe.

  As for Rake . . . no one has mentioned him to me, so I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing. I know he calls Tracker to check up on us. I see Tracker watching me curiously after he hangs up the phone, maybe wondering what’s going on between us. The truth is, I know about as much as he does, which is a big fat nothing at all.

  “Any news on whoever threatened Bailey?” Tia asks Tracker in a hushed tone.

  “I see everyone is keeping that a secret,” he replies in a dry tone, then sighs. “The only thing I can say is that it’s being handled, all right? You don’t worry your pretty head.”

  Tia throws a pillow at him. “So how come you’re here instead of Rake?”