She doesn’t even answer. She’s out like a light by the time her head hits my chest. I stare up at the ceiling, my mind going in a million directions. I need to put a list of suspects together. Shit. It could be anybody with a grudge against me. It’s going be a long fucking list. I better talk to Tek, make sure Glenn really is out of town. It could be the guys from The Muscle. Maybe I didn’t get all of them. Then there were those scum bags from the Snakes.
I should give Ace a call. I haven’t had any problems with the Mexicans since I helped with their shipment, but it wouldn’t hurt to reach out to Jefe. Oh, shit. It could have been the fuckers who were jacking the guns from the Mexicans. Then again, it could be some random motherfucker who just couldn’t keep his hands off her. No. This was me. She was hurt because some idiot thought it was the best way to get to me. Well, now they have my full attention. I’m going to rain down the wrath of Lucifer himself on these fools.
Raven shifts, trying to get comfortable and I think about her bound to her bed, helpless and screaming. My poor bird. I told her I’d protect her and I failed. I promised to keep her safe and I fucking failed. I knew this would happen. I should have stayed away from her. Instead, I pursued her for my own selfish needs and ended up getting her hurt. This is on me and once she realizes it, I know I’ll lose her. Forever.
Fuck that. She’s mine. There’s no way I’m losing her. No fucking way.
E sticks his head through the door and I wave him inside.
“How is she?” he asks in a quiet voice.
“Not good, E. I need to find this motherfucker. Fast.”
“I know. The guys haven’t dug up anything yet, but they’re not giving up.”
I fill him in on all the ideas I have, and he promises to take care of everything so I can stay with Raven. I also tell him to get with Chad, our guy at the lab, and about Rambo’s visit.
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“It was the only way to get Renley off my back,” I reply.
“And you trust him? You think he’ll back off?”
“No, but we’ll see.”
He nods and jerks his chin toward Raven. “How long has she been out?”
“A while,” I answer.
“Her meds must have kicked in.” He pulls up a chair and stares at the wall in quiet contemplation. “I don’t understand, Gage. Who could have done this? If it’s a message, as you say, why haven’t we heard anything? Why didn’t they leave any clues?”
“I don’t know and I hate not knowing. How soon can I get her out of here? At least if I have her at the clubhouse, I’ll know she’s safe and I can concentrate on finding the fucker.”
“At least a few days. They’ll bring in a rape counsellor first.”
Fuck. I didn’t even think of that. I’ve been focusing on her physical injuries, but she’ll be messed up in the head for God knows how long.
“You know anyone she could talk to? After?”
“I know a few psychiatrists I can recommend,” he replies. “I’ll make some calls, see who can take her.”
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem, brother,” he says while rising. “I’ll go talk to the guys and start making those calls.”
“Okay. Keep me updated.”
“Got it.”
“Anything on her sister?”
“Still not answering her phone, but Tek tracked her credit card. Last purchase in Georgia was at a gas station a few days ago. Next was a motel in Jacksonville. Everything else is in Miami. Looks like she went home.”
“Tell him to stop wasting time on her. We don’t need her anymore.”
He nods. “Sure thing.”
He leaves and it’s just me and my thoughts once again. There are too many unknown variables, too many questions with no answers. Someone has them. I just need to find him. Therein lies another question—how? If all our information channels are dry then this guy is either really good or he’s new around here. Or maybe he’s not from around here. He could be from another fucking country for all I know.
Raven groans and shifts in her sleep again. I hold her as tightly as I can without hurting her and she settles. I close my eyes and try to quiet my thoughts. Overthinking the situation never works.
I’ll get it. Trust I will. On my life and everything I own, I’ll figure it out.
***Raven***
I take a deep breath before I even open my eyes. There’s just something reassuring about his scent. Funny, before today, the hint of his cologne would set my heart racing and arouse me to no end. Now, it’s calming. It’s my anchor in this stormy sea of hurt and confusion. I guess that makes him my ship... and my captain. He’s the only one who can help me navigate the waters. He’s the only one who can save me.
I can’t hug him because of my bandages. Hell, I can’t even move my arm. A dislocated shoulder. I guess I put up quite a fight, for all the good it did me. I was still raped.
The word sounds so foreign. It still doesn’t feel real. How could this have happened? How could there have been someone in the house with me and I didn’t know? I couldn’t have been that distracted. Who the hell is this guy? How long was he there? God, how long has he been watching me? This must have been going on for a while because he obviously had a well-thought-out plan. How in the hell is Gage going to find him? He could be a million miles away right now. Or not. He could be waiting in the wings to finish the job.
I burrow impossibly close into Gage’s side and feel his chest expand with a deep breath.
“Babe?” he says in a sleepy voice.
“I woke you. Sorry.”
“Baby girl, I’m here for you. I’ll stay up all night if you want me to.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, even though those words will never be enough to express my gratitude.
“You don’t need to thank me, either. This is where I should be. I feel helpless as fuck right now. If all I can do is hold and console you then that’s what I’ll do.”
“You’re not helpless.”
“Yeah? You got hurt on my watch, and I can’t even find the motherfucker who did it.”
“It’s only been a day.”
“Too fucking long,” he says. “He should have been fish food already.”
“You’ll find him.”
With all my heart, I believe he will. He’s the type of man who achieves whatever he sets his mind to. When he does, I want to be there. I want to watch the light in the man’s eyes go out as Gage drains every drop of blood from his body.
Jesus. What am I thinking? I can’t let this loser drag me down to his level. I can’t let him do it to Gage, either.
“Gage—”
Cindy, the nurse, walks in and interrupts what I was about to say. She gives me a bright smile and places a tray of food on the table.
“Lunch time,” she chirps.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Raven, you need to eat,” Gage tells me.
“He’s right,” Cindy agrees. “You have to try, sweetie.”
“Fine, but I don’t want that.” I jerk my chin at the tray. “Could you re-heat the soup my friend brought?”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”
She takes the tray and my soup and leaves. Gage climbs out of the bed and stretches, placing both hands at the small of his back.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “This can’t be comfortable for you.”
“I’m fine. You need anything?”
“Can you help me out of bed?”
“Why?”
“Bathroom.”
He carefully picks me up and takes me to the bathroom instead. With even more care, he places me on my feet.
“You need help?” he asks.
“No. I can handle it.”
“Okay. Just call out for me when you’re done,” he says as he closes the door.
After he leaves, I take a look at all the stuff the doctor gave me that will be bathroom staples for me for the next couple of weeks—a peri bottle for squirting
warm water over “the area,” gauze pads, and paper wipes. Fuck my life. All this just to pee. I sit gingerly on the toilet and do my best to follow the doctor’s instructions. It still burns like hell. I bite my lip and suffer silently through it. All this pain and soreness... God, please let it be over soon.
After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I try to make my way back to the bed but only manage to get as far as the doorway. Gage rushes to me, picking me up before I fall flat on my ass. That would have been great.
“I told you to call me,” he chastises.
“I thought I could make it. I didn’t realize it would hurt just to walk.”
“Next time, you call me.”
“I will.”
Trust me, I will. My legs felt like jelly after just one step.
He places me back on the bed then sits on the edge, reaching for a bowl on the table. I watch him with a small smile as he scoops up some of the soup and blows on the spoon gently. I let him feed me, not only because I think it’s cute but also because I probably wouldn’t eat it otherwise. His phone rings just as I have the last spoonful. He answers it but doesn’t say much. When he hangs up, he takes a deep breath.
“That was Santini. He’s on his way here... with your mother.”
Shit. I can’t believe she’s actually coming. What was I thinking? Why didn’t I postpone it? The first time I meet my mother, I’ll be in a hospital bed, recovering from a rape. Great. That should leave a lasting impression.
It’s not too late. I can have Gage call Santini and tell him to wait until I’m better.
“You’ll be fine, Raven. If anything, you need her now more than ever. I’ll be right here with you.”
I need her. I need her? I never needed her before, and I certainly don’t need her now. She can run back to Mommy and Daddy, for all I care. When she gave me up, she gave up any chance of being in my life. That’s exactly what I’m going to tell her when she walks through that door.
CHAPTER 4
***Raven***
Gage emerges from the bathroom with neatly combed hair and a clean-shaven face. In his biker gear, he’s the picture of the man your mother would warn you to stay away from. Right now, he looks like the kind of man your dad would be proud to have as a son-in-law.
“So, this is what it takes to get you to comb your hair?”
“Hey,” he shrugs. “It’s not every day you meet your girlfriend’s estranged mother.”
Girlfriend. It sounds so strange coming from him. Strange but wonderful. “Yeah. Don’t get too attached.”
“Promise me you’ll at least give her a chance.”
“Why?” I ask. “Why do you want me to play nice with her?”
He takes my hand as he sits on the edge of the bed. “She’s alive, Raven. She’s here, and she’s trying to connect with you. I’d give anything to have my mom here.” He drops a gentle kiss on my knuckles as he continues, “You have a second chance. Don’t waste it.”
His mother. He lost her at such a young age. At least I didn’t know what I was missing; I never had that mother-daughter bond. He had years with her before she was taken from him.
“What was she like?”
“Mom?” He smiles wistfully. “She was beautiful. The kindest, most caring woman you’d ever meet. I don’t know what she saw in Chopper.” He chuckles then trails his index finger down my cheek and under my chin. “She would have loved you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Now, promise me.”
“Fine. I promise.”
“Good.”
He walks to the corner of the room where the bag Chrissy brought me is sitting. After rummaging through it, he comes back with a hairbrush. I reach for it but instead of handing it to me, he proceeds to brush my hair.
“Okay. Who are you and what have you done with the real Gage?”
“Get used to it, doll. I’m going to be doing stuff like this until you can do it yourself.”
The day we met comes creeping back into my mind. Me falling as I climbed off his bike, and him picking me up and carrying me to the door. He’d said basically the same thing. Even then, he was looking out for me, taking care of me. I was such a bitch to him back then. I’m glad he didn’t take no for an answer.
“There. As gorgeous as ever.”
He presses his lips to my forehead and I take a deep breath, not only to get a whiff of his scent but to calm my nerves. She’ll be here any minute now. What do I do… say? What on Earth could she have to say to me after all this time? I start chewing on my thumbnail anxiously. I wonder what she looks like. Daddy never talked about her. It was Lonnie who overheard a conversation between Daddy and his partner then happily relayed the story to me. When I asked him about it, he didn’t deny it. He just asked me where I heard it and then told me to never ask about her again. It seems strange to hear now that he’d been in contact with her, sending her pictures and updates. It just doesn’t add up.
There’s a knock on the door and when Gage opens it, Mr. Santini steps in. Oh, God. She’s here. My breathing becomes rapid and my heart begins to beat a crazy rhythm. Gage comes back to me, taking my hand in his.
“Are you ready?” Santini inquires.
“No.” I look to Gage then back to him and nod. “Let’s get this over with.”
Gage’s fingers tighten around mine as Santini opens the door. I watch the doorway, holding my breath, waiting for her to appear. A woman steps into the space apprehensively. She gasps at the sight of me then quickly hides whatever emotion it evoked—surprise, disappointment? Maybe it was pity. I am in a hospital bed, after all. I take in every detail—brunette, hair in a fancy side chignon, nice figure. She’s beautiful... elegant, from her preppy clothes to her diamond earrings. This is my mother?
She does the same to me but while my gaze is evaluative, hers is filled with wonderment. She steps inside and gives me a nervous smile.
“Raven,” Santini says. “This is Laurelyn Marchand.” He waves her forward and smiles at me. “Laurelyn, this is Raven.”
I watch her move closer, curiosity taking hold of me. Who is this woman? Why is she here? After all this time, what does she want? She looks briefly at Gage and then back to me.
“Hello, Raven.”
Her voice is just like the rest of her—beautiful. I stare into her eyes and see a mirror image of my own. Those are my eyes. I have her eyes. It’s her. It’s her. My... mother.
I break the fuck down.
She reaches for me and I shrink from her touch, leaning in to Gage. He wraps his arms around me, holding me as I sob uncontrollably. I can’t do this. I don’t know why I thought I could, especially today.
“I got you, doll.”
I bury my face in his chest, unable to stop the flow of tears. All my life, this woman was nothing but an idea. Now she’s here, flesh and blood, standing before me. I thought I’d be angry, that I’d tell her to fuck off. Instead, I’m flooded with unwanted emotions—hurt, fear, uncertainty. I always told myself Daddy was more than enough, that I didn’t need her, but I did. I needed my mother, and she was never there. What if she does it again? She can decide I’m not what she expected and disappear just as suddenly as she appeared. Then what? I’ll be left in the same situation, only knowing she wasn’t forced to leave me this time. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that. I couldn’t.
I let out my frustrations the only way I can right now—by crying a river. Hell, an entire ocean. Gage just holds me, rocking me gently. The solidity of his presence calms me. He’s the only certainty in my life, the one person I can count on. If this woman, Laurelyn Marchand, decides she wants to run off again, I know I have him.
I try to pull myself together, wiping at my tears with the backs of my hands. Gage hands me his bandana and I use that instead. When I look back to her, Laurelyn, she’s doing the same, only with a dainty hanky. Why the hell is she crying? I watch her and wait for her to say or do something. I’m definitely not going to be the one to break the ice.
“You’re even more beautiful than your pictures,” she chokes out.
I resist the urge to break down again because I can’t show any more weakness than I already have. I have to make her see I’ve managed without her so far and I’ll be just fine when she leaves again. She clears her throat and reaches into her giant purse, pulling out a photo album. Taking a tentative step forward, she offers it to me. I take it, keeping my eyes on her as I place it on my lap. When I open it, I see it’s actually a scrapbook. The first page has my full name and date of birth in decorative letters. The next has various baby pictures. I flip through the book, seeing pictures from every major “first” from my childhood—first time crawling, first step, first word, first day of school, first tooth I lost. Then the pictures become less frequent.
“Your father sent me a picture of you on your birthday every year.”
So that’s why he always insisted I get dressed up for a birthday picture. The last one is from my seventeenth birthday. I snap the book shut. What’s the point of treasuring pictures when she could have had the real thing?
“Why?” I ask as I stare into her eyes.
“I couldn’t be with you—”
“Why are you here?” I cut her off impatiently.
Gage squeezes my shoulder. Probably a gentle reminder that I promised to give her a chance. Her bottom lip trembles and tears pool in her eyes once more. I steel myself against her waterworks. I can’t let them affect me.
“I never wanted to give you up,” she sobs.
“Then why did you? How could you?”
“I was young. I thought I had no other choice. My parents brainwashed me into thinking I was doing the right thing.”
“Did it feel right?”
“No,” she admits. “I felt horrible. There wasn’t a day that went by and I didn’t think of you. I’ve been waiting for this day since the moment your father took you from my arms and walked out of the hospital.”
“So, what? You come here and give me some sob story and we’re supposed to kiss and make up?”
RAGE: President & First Lady Of The Death Dealers MC Page 30
