by Avelyn Paige
There was something about him that I wasn’t seeing on the surface. I shouldn’t even be considering seeing where it goes with him, yet I can’t shake the thought from my mind. My heart was leading me to Beauregard, but my mind was pushing me towards V, despite the fact that it would never last. If the dangers lurking around me finally settled, my plan wasn’t to stick around. My life would never be back in this club, and getting involved with V, would only complicate that plan even more. The other side of that coin wasn’t a pretty picture either. I would be the one to lose.
I try to shove the ridiculous notion of a relationship with V out of my mind. The silence of the room is near deafening and is soon broken by the sound of my stomach betraying my plans of lying in bed all day.
Traitor.
I shove the blankets back off of me, stalking to the chest of drawers, where the clothes V had gotten for me lay folded inside. The old wooden drawer squeaks as I open it. I reach inside, grabbing another simple t-shirt with the club’s logo on it and grab a pair of black leggings.
I dress quickly in the cold, and sweep my long dark hair into a messy bun on top of my head. You could say that was a perk of being in my brother’s clubhouse because I really didn’t need to care about how I looked. I wasn’t here to impress anyone. Well, not everyone. V might me the only exception to that rule.
Stop it, Presley. Why are you doing this to yourself? It’s only going to end badly. Cling to Beauregard. With him, there’s a future.
My stomach vibrates and grumbles, snapping me back from mentally berating myself. I walk to my door, throwing it open, and step into the hallway. With each step closer to the main room, the smell of breakfast wafts into my nostrils, causing my stomach to growl in protest again.
The room is busy with tables of people chattering about, all the while shoving food into their mouths. Everyone seems really happy here the longer that I watch them. I have to admit to myself that Mikey really did have a positive effect on the club. It was almost like the family I had once envisioned this place could be, as jaded child. It could all be just a mirage though. Like the calm before the raging storm that Ginny and I had brought upon them. Guilt hits again knowing that the delicate balance of this club may be tipped back into the darkness because of us. It is a thought that doesn’t settle well in my heart and soul. I make a silent promise to myself that I will run, before I ever let that happen to my brother’s hard work.
“Presley! Over here,” Ginny’s voice calls out to me. I spot her over at a smaller table, off to the side with her brother flanking her. I smile back at her, as I walk towards them.
“Morning,” she beams at me. “Sleep well?”
“I did,” I respond, sounding almost too formal with her. It’s hard to remember that we are no longer just a doctor and patient. “And you?”
“Like a baby, except when this big lug was snoring,” she says with a giggle and elbows Ratchet’s rib cage.
“I don’t snore,” he snarls. “That’s you.”
Ginny scowls at his rudeness, and elbows him again.
“Don’t mind him. He’s an asshole in the morning.”
He scoffs at her accurate observation of his mood, and shovels a spoonful of eggs into his mouth.
“I’ll go grab some food, and then I’ll be back.”
Ginny smiles at me and just laughs, pointing behind me.
“I think your food is already on the way.”
I peer over my shoulder, and find V balancing two plates through the tables, heading right for us. He strides up next to us, depositing a plate in front of me.
“First it was video games, then a movie, and now breakfast. Is there anything that you don’t do, V?” I smile, as he slides onto the stool next to me with his own plate, loaded with what has to be about a pound of bacon and one lonely scoop of eggs, that are barely holding onto the plate.
“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he teases back, while he stuffs a few pieces of bacon in his mouth. His sense of humor and smile are just as intoxicating as his touch. I could seriously just stare at him for hours, and never grow tired of it.
What the hell? Where did that come from?
I just shake my head at his absurdity and the random thought I just had, focusing on my own plate of delicious smelling food. I smirk when I see that my own plate has a mountain-sized pile of bacon, but instead of eggs, there are two pancakes covered in butter and syrup.
I ferociously tear into the pancakes and moan, when I pop a butter-soaked piece in my mouth. V stiffens next to me, and I can feel his stare, as I take another bite.
“Where were the pancakes?” Ginny asks her brother. “I didn’t see those up there.”
Ratchet huffs and just stares a hole through Voodoo, who only smiles in return.
“Must have run out,” V says with a mouth full of bacon.
“Suck up,” Ratchet mutters, under his breath.
V exchanges another look with Ratchet, before making his plate and fork his priority.
“There she is. Hello, Presley,” I hear from behind me, which makes me spin on my chair turning to find the person responsible. The Viking looking man, who tried to deny my entry into the club on our first day, is shuffling his way towards us. He stops just to my left, and steps way too close into my comfort zone.
“You ready to trade V in for a younger, more experienced keeper, yet?” he quips. V goes rigid, when he notices how close he is to me. “Name’s Slider.”
“And I’m not interested. Why don’t you slide on out of here and away from me?”
“Oh come on, doll face. You’d have more fun with me than him. I wouldn’t put a bunch of computers up on a pedestal, if I had you around.”
“Back off, fucker,” V growls behind me. Slider jerks in response to V and jolts around me to get to him.
“Not in this lifetime, Slider,” Ratchet warns. “Why don’t you get out to the garage and get started on waxing bikes? Mine seems to be a little dusty. You’ve been slacking off.”
Ratchet’s low-voice insult doesn’t go unnoticed to Slider. It doesn’t take a doctorate degree to see that there’s bad blood between these two men. Not to mention the fact that V is seething himself.
Slider’s glare bores into V then Ratchet, before retreating back. I don’t remember prospects being this high-spirited back when I was a kid. My father would have never stood for such insubordination. Had Slider said something like that to his face, he would have never been seen again. Respect is a major principle of a motorcycle club, and I fear that it was one hard lesson that would be taken out of Slider’s hide, if he didn’t learn it fast enough.
I watch as V’s heated stare doesn’t leave the back of Slider’s head, until he disappears out of the room. The rest of breakfast is done in an awkward mix of silence and brooding alpha male.
“Voodoo wants me to look at pictures today,” Ginny interjects to break up the silence. “Would you, uh, come with me?”
She looks at me with somber eyes. Seeing the faces of those men affected me deeply, so I knew it was going to be even harder on her. It was also only a natural reaction on her part to want me there to comfort her, as a therapist and mostly as a friend.
“Of course, I will.”
Ginny’s sad façade cracks just slightly, as she finishes the last bite of her breakfast. “You ready?” she asks Voodoo.
“Whenever you are, Little G.”
“That’s not her name, ass hat,” Ratchet fires back at the nickname Voodoo called her.
“I like it,” Ginny adds.
Ratchet rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything else. He loves his sister enough to stow whatever distaste he has, in another one of his brothers, branding his sister with her own nickname.
Voodoo shoves off the stool obviously wanting us all to do the same. Ginny wipes her face off with a napkin, before popping up from the table herself. I do the same, and the three of us walk to V’s office. I was a little surprised that Ratchet didn’t follow, but maybe he has
something else to do.
It takes about two hours for Ginny to make it through all the photos. Knowing how important it was, she took her time. I was proud of her for only squeezing my hand twice, as she forced her mind back to the darkness of her past.
In addition to the two men I had picked out, Ginny added six more to the pile that she had seen prior to the safe house, Gio being one of them. Her body trembled at the sight of him, and even as I pleaded with her to step away, she didn’t. Ginny wanted to end this part of her life, and she was putting herself through mental hell to do it. She still has a long way to go, but this also showed me how much she’s grown as a person.
After we finish, Voodoo texts someone on his phone, and Ratchet soon arrives to collect Ginny. She needs time to process all of this, and I make sure to tell her that I will stop by to check on her later, which earns me a semi-fake smile.
I linger in the office, as V collects random wires, circuits, and some different pieces of a computer that I couldn’t even begin to tell you the proper name for.
“Spring cleaning?”
V pauses with a slew of cords of various sizes in his hands.
“You could say that. There’s an electronics recycling drop off this weekend, and I want to free up some space.”
He shuffles over to the box on his desk, where he begins to pile the junk, and shoves in the fistful in his hand. While his back is turned, I notice the familiar end of what looks to be a bundle of phone chargers hanging over the side.
Shit. He might have the kind of cord I need for my phone.
Guilt pangs me, as I consider stealing it from him. I force myself to think about the situation in a different way. He said it himself that this was trash. Taking it would just be my own way of recycling.
“Be right back,” he tells me, as he heads out the door. “Need another box for the old DVD burners.”
I pause, waiting to make sure he isn’t coming back, before I dart for the box. A few different sizes of phone chargers lay right on top, and I grab them, coiling them as tightly as I can and stuffing them into my box. I know he might notice, so I shift around a few more of the wires to make it less obvious.
He steps back in just as I return to my place. My heart stops as he peers into the box, but he goes back to loading up the next box without a word.
“Almost done.” He tells me, as he shoves a large metal box on the top of a very full box. “Let me get these out to the garage with the other recycling shit, and we can play some more Mario Kart.”
As much as I want to say yes, I can’t. Mario Kart isn’t what I had in mind, knowing the pilfered cords in my pocket might just bring Beauregard back to me.
“I actually think I may head back to my room and lie down. I’ve been battling a headache since I woke up, and I think helping Ginny only made it worse. Rain check?” I lie. His smile falls.
“Sure. You know where to find me.” The disappointment is clear as day in his voice.
Now who’s the asshole.
I spin on my heels, and trudge out of the room with guilt weighing heavily on me. I stole from him to facilitate my need to speak to Beauregard, despite the growing feelings I’m starting to have for V. A man who is real and right in front of me.
So this is what it feels like to be a complete, train wreck.
Not a fan. Definitely not a fucking fan.
I’m a miserable sack of shit.
For the past week, I’ve watched the beautiful life shining out of Presley drain, and it’s my own fucking fault.
She wanted so badly to contact Beauregard. I had given her the perfect opportunity to make that decision, when I purposely left the box with every single kind of charger I could find for her to choose from. It was a psychological game, and one she didn’t even know she was playing. That box was a test.
If she took the charger, she lost.
If she asked for the charger, she lost.
If she didn’t take it, I won.
Except instead of being shocked by an electric jolt for making the wrong decision, I was the person who was being punished. That shock hit me like a bolt of lightning.
It hurt more than I thought it would, when I peeked into that box, with her standing so innocently there in front of me, and found them tucked away. The pain only increased, when she blew me off to go back to her room and wait for her phone to charge.
You could say that I was just guessing at what she was doing, but I knew for a fact that’s what she did from the cameras. She paced the floor, constantly going back and forth to the bathroom.
I watched her excitement of connecting with him again, and as soon as the tone went off on my burner phone, I hit rock bottom.
Why couldn’t I be enough for her? I had tried my damnedest to go out of my way to make her happy. Breakfast, the movie, video game night, and giving her more breathing room than I should have, with the level of danger we were waiting on to show up at our doorstep at any minute.
But it ate away at me.
It ate away at me because I never responded back to her. Message after message from all hours of the night went unanswered. With each passing day of continued silence, a darker shadow settled over her. She was disappearing in front of me, and it was all because of me. She just didn’t know it. Listening to her cry last night almost broke me. The phone was cradled in my hand with an “I miss you too” typed onto the screen, ready to send. But I couldn’t do it.
I was a chicken shit because I was still clinging onto hope that she would pick me over him. The playful banter that we had prior was gone. Her one-word answers were proof of that.
I had to fix this because my plan of having Beauregard ghost on her wasn’t working. As I listened to my brother’s discussion in Church, I made another promise to myself to handle this situation, as soon as Church was over. It was time to nut up or shut up.
Ratchet stands, and directs our attention to a news report pulled up on the big screen behind Raze, that I had installed just this morning.
“Local police are reporting the recovery of the body of a local woman tonight,” the news anchor begins. “Sabrina Townsend was found early this morning by San Bernardino police alongside I-10 near the Ontario exit. Townsend was reported missing just three days ago, when an eye witness saw three masked men at a convenience store throw her into a black van. She is the third woman in the last week that has been kidnapped and dumped.”
The news reporter continues on with a map of where the bodies of the victims were taken and found, over the course of the last week. Each dot was inching closer and closer to us. The Zezza’s knew the girls were in California. That much was true, but whether or not they knew they were with us, was still a dangerous unknown.
Each of my brothers looks around the room. We are all thinking the same thing. The devil that’s coming for Ginny and Presley is closing in on them and us.
Ratchet pauses the video and sets down the wireless remote on the table.
“You all know what this means,” he declares. “The Zezza’s are moving in.”
Ratchet pauses for a brief moment, before continuing, “All of the women who have been kidnapped are similar ages, builds, and have physical characteristics to either Presley or Ginny.”
I can literally feel my blood boiling, as it courses through my veins. The threat to Presley is circling like a fucking vulture, and I have been more distracted by a fucking fake identity crisis, instead of doing my damn job. Fucking stupid. I have never let a woman get into my head like this before, and it could cost Presley her life, if I don’t get my shit straightened out.
“We need to double security,” Hero adds in. “I’ve called in a few of the guys from the Oakland Chapter and Orange County. Thor will be taking the lead on getting those guys up to speed.”
Thor nods. After the last scuffle a few months back, I’m surprised to see him so eager to return, after his injuries. But knowing he is willing to join in with us again makes me proud to call him my brother. Accepting his transfer was one
of the best decisions we had made. He came to us looking for a better position, and we gave it to him. He has the kind of muscle that would make most thugs piss their pants in fear. He was our personal badass Fabio.
“Like I mentioned before, if you need to move your women and children out, this would be the time to do it,” Raze reminds us. Darcy had initially drug her feet on leaving, when Raze had insisted she take the kids and visit her parents for a while, but she finally gave in to his wishes. Hero had followed suit, and sent a very pregnant Dani and the twins, along with Darcy. Together and away from us, they would be safe, until this played out.
“I’ll get Maria and the kids out first thing in the morning. They’re overdue for a vacation,” Hot Shot adds in.
“Mikayla won’t leave, even if I tied her to the back of Maria’s car. She’d just gnaw her way through the ropes,” Thor chuckles about the woman who latched onto him, after the death of her brother. “She’ll stay no matter what I tell her.”
“Worst case scenario, we hole her up with Presley and Ginny,” I comment. Not exactly the best plan, but it might be the only hand we have to play.
Raze peers down the table and catches my attention.
“Show us what you have, V.”
I get up from my chair, as Ratchet tosses the projector remote into my hand. I wanted to make a remark about the use of the new tech in the Church room, but this wasn’t the time or place to do it. I will just have to wait, until all this shit is over.
“Ginny and Presley have identified the eight men seen here on the screen as Zezza members or associates.”
I click to the first full picture and rattle off the dossier of information I was able to gather off of them, via the FBI’s database.
It isn’t until I get to the last one that I pause.
