by Ryan Michele
“I met her briefly. Princess says that she ‘kicks ass’.” My mother gives a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes in that twinkling way she does. “Said she trusts Rylie with more than the old guy. Says she’s a good woman, and that’s what I want for you, sweetheart. I want you to have someone you can rely on.”
The tone of her words takes on a different meaning that is not lost on me one bit.
“You’re fightin’ this, Mom.”
She reaches out and grasps my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Damn straight. Doesn’t mean I don’t want a good woman at your back, Deacon.”
I feel the damn tickle come to the back of my throat, and I fight to keep my emotions in check. “I’m good, Ma. You worry about getting better, not me.”
“I’ve always worried about you. Not a single moment of my life that I’ve had you on this planet have I not worried about you. When you’re a parent, you’ll know.” A cloud drifts over her eyes, more than likely imagining what life would be like if she never met her grandkids. Fuck, I don’t even know if I want kids at this point.
“Get some rest. It’s the best thing for ya right now.”
She yawns. “It’s hard because, with you close, I just want to stay awake and know it’s not a trick … that you’re really here.”
That ball in my stomach falls hard in my gut. Time. So much time lost. Fuck.
“How’s working in the garage?” she asks, changing the subject and distracting me from my morose thoughts.
Breathing out, I answer, “Only been there a coupla days. I’m low on the totem pole there, but since I know my shit, the guys aren’t too hard on me.” At least, not yet. That’s also because they’re backed up, and I’m pulling them out of that. They’re too appreciative at the moment to shoot a gift horse in the mouth.
“You got this, Deke.”
“The job, yeah.” The other shit, I’m not so sure, which is exactly why I need to talk to Cooper.
She reaches over, squeezing my hand, then gives another yawn. “Trust your mom. You are right where you need to be.”
I don’t answer because the door swings open, and my father fills the frame. “How’s it goin’?” he asks my mother, not once looking in my direction.
“Tired.” She gives another yawn, this one bigger than the first.
“I’ve got it, Deke. Head on out,” my father commands, coming to the end of the bed.
Just like him to take over. Whatever. I need to get to Cooper and get this shit sorted.
“No, I want him to stay,” my mother tries.
“Angel, he stays, you stay awake. You know this. Best thing is for him to come back after you’ve had a nap.”
She lets out a huge sigh. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
I rise from the chair, lean over, and kiss my mother’s forehead. “It’s all good. I’ll be back.”
“Right.” The word comes out a bit choked, but she keeps it together.
Looking my father square in the eye, I see his jaw jumps with a tick. I smile inside. He’s pissed. Let him be. I’m done with this shit. Done.
“You wanted me, you got me,” Cooper says, swinging his front door open as I walk in.
His house is a ranch-style that is covered with gray walls and has a huge rock fireplace. There are pictures of the family all around. It’s comfortable.
I’m happy for him. Happy he found what he’s looking for out there. Happy he has time to spend with his Bristyl.
Time. It keeps coming back to that.
“Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to one of his recliners.
“Bristyl here?”
“Nope. Just you and me. Whatcha got for me?”
His demeanor is calm and collected, reminding me so much of his father. Hell, even the way he looks is just like Uncle Cruz.
“When I left, I didn’t have much of a choice.”
Cooper’s body gives a slight jerk, but that’s all I get reaction-wise as I lay it all out—when I started using, rehab, what happened after, and the reason I left.
Cooper was the one I was closest to growing up. That was, until he reached sixteen and got his cut. Everything fell to shit then, and it was my stupid teenaged self who helped it along that path. If I could choose one man to lay this shit on, it’d be him. Back then, I was too angry. Now, well, they say age brings wisdom, and I feel that I can trust him.
When I’m done, Cooper gets up, leaves the room, and then I hear a crash, followed by a loud grunt. Hopping up from my seat, I move toward the noise.
Cooper pounded his fist through the plaster three times, causing cuts to open and blood to seep down his arm. His breathing is erratic, giving away his full outrage, but it serves no purpose.
“Not worth tearin’ your house up. Your ol’ lady’s gonna have your balls.”
His intensity comes to me, putting me on alert.
“Not worth it? Are you fucking shittin’ me?” My calm and cool cousin explodes, and I feel that shit all the way down to my bones. “That motherfucker threatened our sisters, my brother, and killed someone in front of you. Not to mention doped you up to keep you in line. And he showed up last night? Motherfucker’s dead,” he decrees.
“Man—”
“And you,” he cuts me off, the anger pouring off him. “You went four fuckin’ years not here because of this shit. Because GT slammed you down, and thinkin’ you had to go! Fuck that. Fuck that!” He throws his fist through the wall again, debris flittering throughout the air.
“Coop! Stop hittin’ the fuckin’ wall,” I order. “It ain’t solving shit.”
Cooper straightens. “Know that. Just needed to get it out and clear my head.” He takes a deep breath. “You, in your truck and meet me at the clubhouse. We’re talkin’ to the guys about this shit.”
“Coop, I just need you at my back. We can—”
Coop enters my space, and I clench my fists. “That’s not how shit works, Deke. You know this. Fucker messed with Ravage. Fucker scared a kid into leavin’. Fucker threatened Ravage kids. Fucker shows up to give you a message. Fucker will go down.”
“There’s no reason for my father to know any of this shit. It’s over and done with. He needs to focus on my mom.”
“Oh, he’s gonna fuckin’ know. Clubhouse. Now,” he orders.
“I’m really not big on orders, Coop.”
“Fuckin’ do it. Deke, it’s fuckin’ family. We handle it as family. Clubhouse. Now.” He moves to the kitchen, grabs his keys, and then we move out the door.
The clubhouse is pretty quiet when we get there, but it changes quickly as the guys show up. I nurse my beer, having that dark feeling this is going to get bad. Problem is, I don’t know JK’s connections or how deep he is. These guys can find that out a fuck of a lot quicker than I can.
Ravage has ways. Coop’s right.
“This better be good. I was balls deep in my woman,” Rhys grumbles, coming in and taking a seat in the main part of the clubhouse.
“Stop your bitchin’. Know you didn’t stop until you were done,” Tug throws in with a smile.
Only then does Rhys give a soft smile. “Hell yeah. Still, I could be balls deep again.”
My father walks through the door. One look at me, and his jaw grows tight. Wish I knew the moment when he started hating me—if it was the first time I doped up, the second stint in rehab, or if it was before any of that even happened. Was it just because I was me, and not the me he wanted me to be?
It’s like a dagger to the heart, cutting through to my soul. I thought I was over it—the disgust that comes from him—but seeing his reaction to me just adds salt to the already open, gaping wound.
“See we’ve got company, so must not be club business,” my father says, going up to the bar and grabbing a beer before taking a seat.
This crawls under my skin, but I don’t let it show. Cooper, though, he glowers at my father.
That shit isn’t going to make anything better. He really needs to chill the fuck out with it. Whatever way thi
s rolls, it’s not going to be pretty.
“Good morning!” Nox calls, walking in the door with a wide smile on his face. He’s a mini version of Cooper, only with a bit darker hair. Must get that from his mother.
“It’s afternoon, fuckwad,” Dagger calls out to chuckles.
Nox laughs. “Don’t give a fuck. Had a hell of an orgasm and ready to start this fuckin’ day.” He looks around the room, his eyes landing on me. “What do we have here?”
“Meeting. Now sit the fuck down,” Cooper chides his brother.
More men follow in. Jacks, Green, and then there’s Ryker. Jacks and Green were around when I was here four years ago. They weren’t patched at the time, and seeing them with their cuts now reminds me of so much I’ve missed.
“Aw, did you come to kiss and make up?” Ryker starts as I rise from my stool.
Austyn says the baby wasn’t his, but I’m not sure if I can believe it. The way he fucking looks at her, always having her in sight when she’s around. Then, when she’s not, he’s fucking anything and everything that moves.
“Heard you tapped that fine piece.”
“Call her a piece again, motherfucker, and I’ll show you.”
“Testy.” He turns to the guys. “Must not have gotten laid this mornin’.”
“Woke up with Rylie’s mouth around my cock, so I’m good thanks. How’s Austyn?”
The room becomes electrified at my question, all attention coming to us.
Ryker’s nostrils flare. The man has tattoos on every inch of his body, at least that’s visible. Except for his face. That’s the only off limits for him, I guess.
He steps into my space. “Fuckin’ put a lock on that shit.”
Inside, I smile. “Fuckin’ stay away from my woman.”
“And what’re you gonna do about it?”
Cooper presses between us, pushing us away from each other. “Fuckers, this is not what this is for. Take a fuckin’ seat.”
“Care to tell us why we dragged our asses here?” Cruz asks before taking a pull off his bottle, then setting it down on the table.
I move back to my stool and look among all the brothers of the Ravage MC. This was supposed to be my life—sitting with them, having a beer, feeling like I belonged to something bigger. Fuck, that I even had a family instead of going at it alone.
Life is life, and too much time has already been wasted thinking about this shit.
“JK Bridges.” I watch as faces contort at the man’s name. “He needs to be shut down,” Cooper continues. “Asshole has a death sentence and needs to meet the reaper.”
“Care to explain,” Cruz orders.
Cooper looks at me. “Gotta let it ride.”
“Saw JK last night at the fight club Rylie works at, Schade’s place. He was makin’ it known that he knows I’m in town. He doesn’t want me here; therefore, he’s going to be trouble.”
“Everything around you is trouble,” my father comments.
I say nothing. However, the anger builds. The demons come out of the dark recesses of my mind as the fight inside grows, climbs, and claws its way to the surface. The urge to fight hits hard, but I tap it down, needing to focus.
Cruz rises from his chair, crossing his arms. “Best you start at the beginning.”
Giving a nod, I do my best to keep my gaze away from my father. I don’t want to know his thoughts on it or feelings. He doesn’t get that from me. Not now.
“After the second stint in rehab, I went out. Saw JK murder a kid. He beat me, drugged me, and told me that, if I didn’t leave at eighteen, he’d hook my sister, Austyn, and Nox on the strong shit, by force if necessary.”
“What the fuck?” Nox growls, pushing off the wall. “He did what?”
“Everyone, calm your shit. There’s a lot here that needs to be processed. Everyone gettin’ pissed off before it comes out isn’t going to help,” Cooper, ever the diplomat, puts in, and the guys take a reprieve. I know it won’t last long.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell someone?” Cruz bellows, his brows knitting.
As much as I don’t want to, my gaze goes to my father. “I did. Went to my father. He assumed I relapsed. He had some words for me and didn’t leave me much choice.” I watch as his face jumps, but turn away to avoid any other reaction. “That’s why I started fighting with Princess and got the hell out of here as soon as I could.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Cruz asks.
I shrug. “Young, stupid, and my father didn’t believe me, so why would any of you?” I heave in a tight breath, wanting to look at my father and see his reaction to my words. Still, I refrain, not wanting to see his reaction—whatever it may be.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Tug says, putting his hands through his hair and looking up at the ceiling.
“Look, the point is, JK knows I’m back. I don’t know what power he has around here, so I can’t judge his nonverbal threat. Personally, I can beat the hell out of him and snap his neck, but there’s a chance he can go after someone else. That, I’m not having.” I take a pull from my beer, and then simply hold the bottle. The coolness feels good against my skin.
My father charges at me, fury bubbling off him, but this is nothing new, unfortunately. “You mean to tell me that you stayed away for four years, not tellin’ a soul that this dickhead was around and could dope up your family!”
I rise, meeting him eye-to-eye. “Yep.”
The swing comes hard and fast. I don’t bother ducking. No, I take it at full force, my eyes staying glued to the man who raised me.
He heaves in and out, spittle coming out from between his lips. It takes serious control on my part when everything inside of me is telling me to swing back. Everything is telling me to knock him down on his ass and show him I don’t take any shit from anyone anymore. I just stare at him, dead center in the eyes, even as I feel a trickle of blood slip down my chin.
“I’m giving you that one hit, old man. You won’t get a second.”
“I can’t believe you!” he roars, unresponsive to my warning. “What if he would’ve gotten Emery hooked on that shit!”
“He didn’t,” I respond, much calmer than I intend, which I’m proud of. “When exactly did you start hating me?”
My father flinches like I hit him, just as he did me.
“Sure, I’ve fucked up, but it started before then, and you know it. I’m not perfect like Cooper.”
“We’re talkin’ about you puttin’ your family in danger!” my father yells, shaking his head.
Cruz sets his hand on my father’s shoulder. “No, man, we’re talkin’ about a kid who left, thinkin’ it was the only choice he had to protect those he gave a shit about.” His gaze comes to me. “You keep in check with Emery; know what’s going on with them?”
I nod.
“So, you made your sacrifice and kept your pulse on family, all while makin’ a life and a name for yourself alone?”
I make no motions and don’t speak. Whatever they want to think or believe is on them.
Cruz flexes his hand on my father’s shoulder. “Right now, we need to focus on what’s going on. GT, you and I’ll talk after this.” Cruz releases him then turns to the brothers. “Alright, all intel on this asshole. I want to know where he shits, eats, and who he fucks. He picks his fuckin’ nose, I want to know. This man, and whoever works for him, are a threat. You lock down your kids. They stay at home or you bring them here until we work shit out.” Cruz turns to me. “You work with Cooper and Nox. They’ll show you where to start.”
Chairs scrape on the floor as men move throughout. My father finally turns and makes his way down the hallway, following Cruz.
Nox’s look is one of bafflement, which we don’t have time for.
This club, the one that I’ve tried so hard to distance myself from over the last four years, is taking my back. At my word. No qualms. Believing me and trusting me. Something I didn’t feel like I’d have all that time ago.
Unlike my father, w
ho still hasn’t said a word to me. Not even a fuck you, you’re full of shit. Nothing.
I hate it. Full-out hate it. It feeds the beast inside of me. The urge to fight hits hard, but seeing the men around me, the ones who have my back, the intensity dies down. I’ve lived many years with only myself to take my back. Now these men are, and it’s something I never thought I’d have. I find that I like it. A lot.
“Let’s do this,” Cooper says, and then we get down to doing what Ravage does.
18
Rylie
Cleaning my house has never been something I enjoy. It’s just going to get messy again, so what’s the point? However, I have nervous energy. Deke called and is going to face some of his demons with his family today, and hopefully lay them to rest. Not to mention hopefully make this JK asshole go away.
I can’t imagine what he feels like. It was so hard for him to open up to me, yet he did it. With his father there at this meeting, Lord knows what sparks will fly. I don’t want that for him. Not that he can’t handle it, but he’s lived through enough guilt. He needs to be free of it once and for all. It’s what we all want—to live free.
It’s my day off from both places, and I wish I had to work. I need something else to do besides clean the damn house.
Brewer joins me, wagging his tail and following me throughout the house. Although, he likes his naps on the way, obviously not having the nervous energy I do.
After taking the laundry to the washer and starting it, I move out into the living room, noting not much needs to be done. That’s both good and bad.
I called Breelyn, Skyler, and Avery, hoping to get my mind off everything. It helped for a moment. As soon as I was off the phone, though, the energy was back. We plan to have a girls’ night on the first night we all get off work.
X has been good, and so has Schade’s. Yes, Schade was a little pissed off at me for just leaving and gave me shit for it, but he’s over it, and now we’re good. Princess runs a tight ship, and I’m finding myself liking it there, too.
Loud pops surround me. Glass shatters and falls to the carpet. Fear takes over as I fall to the ground. More shots. Gunshots. At my house. Crashing through windows, walls, and through furniture.
