"I gotta go meet up with the 'Cats,"
"I'm comin' with you," said Charlie.
"Like hell you are," I snapped. "You're ain’t gettin' hurt because of me. Nobody is."
Without waiting for a response I stormed out of the garage, hopped on my bike, and sped across town to the Wildcats' hangout. When I got there, I noted with some satisfaction, that their front windows were still busted from when our guys paid 'em a little visit. They were messily covered with cardboard and duct tape. I parked across the street and went over, knocking on the door. As soon as the door opened, I was grabbed by the shoulders and yanked inside. You could say I was well known around these parts…
"Let go of me!" I growled, jerking away, but they grabbed my hands, holding them behind my back.
"Search 'im," someone said from the shadows on the other side of the warehouse. "Take everything he's got on him."
"Fuck you!" I bellowed, trying to wriggle away, but there were too many of them, probably a dozen or more. Foreign hands dove into my pockets, felt up my body, someone even grabbed my crotch and ass. "Get offa me you fuckin—"
"Chill out, little doggy," one of them sneered, extracting the wad of cash from my pocket. "Well, well, what do we have here?"
"I came here to pay you," I said evenly. "But..."
"But it's short!" exclaimed the guy who has taken it from my pocket. He was thumbing through the bills, counting, I guess, at a ridiculously fast pace. Who was this guy, the human cash machine?
"Yeah, it's short, I can't make ten grand outta nothing. That's the best I can do, but if you just give me another— hunng!"
Someone slammed their knee into my gut, knocking the wind out of me and making me double over. My eyes watered and I wheezed to catch my breath, stars bursting before my eyes. I was on the ground, suddenly on my knees, and I didn't remember kneeling.
"Ya think so, huh?" said the voice from the shadows. Footsteps approached, the crowd of thugs parting as a man came toward me. He was tall and kinda old for a gangster, his hair a sleek iron gray. His clothes were all black, and his face kinda handsome, but mean. The Wildcats weren't bikers, as such, so he didn't exactly dress the part. I kinda had a hard time taking him seriously, even as he leered at me, gun in hand. He just looked like a regular old grandpa at his hag’s funeral. "Look, you little punk— you don't fuck with a gang's finance."
"I don't have your fuckin' money," I mumbled, "and you burned down my main source of income. You can't get blood from a stone—"
My vision exploded in flashes of white light as he slammed the butt of his gun upside my head. I reeled, dizzy, my vision doubled and my stomach queasy, a warm trickle of blood running down the side of my face.
"No, but we can sure as fuck get blood from a debt-welching rat bastard like you," the man growled. "We're gonna make you wish you'd never been born. Have at 'im, boys."
The gray man with the gun stepped back, and suddenly, six Wildcats set upon me all at the same time. They had taken my knife, plus, I was already injured and on my knees, dazed from being hit in the head. I had zero chance of fighting back. Boots collided with my stomach, my kidneys, my back; brass knuckles pummeled my face; I was thrown to the floor and picked up again just so they could throw me down one more time. These guys hated my guts, and with good reason. Our gangs had been rivals in this town for the last fifty years. They put every last ounce of their hatred into beating me until I was a groaning, bloody pulp.
Honest to God, I thought I was gonna die in that warehouse. I could barely see, but I could feel my blood was all over the floor, soaking my clothes. My eyes were swollen, my nose was broken and my mouth and throat were full of blood. I probably even had blood in my lungs. But I didn't die. Eventually, they stopped, leaving me a battered heap on the floor.
"We have your keys, so we're gonna take your bike and call the debt settled," said the gray-haired guy.
"No!" I moaned, unable to get up from the floor, my entire being throbbing with pain. I couldn't let them take my bike! She was worth at least five times what I owed these assholes! But when I tried to get up and fight, I barely got three inches from the floor before I collapsed again.
" Consider it interest charged." The man jangled my keys tauntingly, then pocketed them. "All right boys, take him home."
I bit back a yelp of pain as they hauled me to my feet. They had to prop me up with one guy under each arm as my legs could barely move. I was thrown into the back of a van. I nearly blacked out while they were driving, my limp body jostling around in the van, but I stayed conscious. I had no clue where they were taking me. That bastard said "take him home", but I didn't really know what that meant. I figured they would probably drop me off at the charred remains of the Den and leave me there to die, which, during the ride, I fully accepted as my fate. I just hoped Ma and Justin would somehow manage without me. Ma had Albert now, after all. I only prayed that the guy would take good care of Justin. And as for Candy, well... I hadn't spoken to her in days, and now, it felt kind of justified. Now she wouldn't even know I was gone. She could move on with her life, and hopefully, she'd break up with that human shit-stain Brent or Chad or whoever the fuck it was that left her at my bar that night.
Yes, I was ready to die. I would crawl inside the burned-out Den and let myself fade away, and I thought, all in all, it wasn't a bad way to go. Better to go out in a bloody blaze of glory and die like a man than sit and wait around to get old, succumbing to dementia, right?
Imagine my shock when the back doors of the van opened and I was dumped out on the lawn in front of my house.
My fucking house, where my family lived. I started to panic because I couldn't let anyone see me in this condition, but it was way too late. Candy was sitting on the front porch and she saw the whole thing. The van peeled out in a squeal of tires and fumes of burnt rubber as Candy cried out and ran over to me, tears streaming down her face. I was losing consciousness fast from all the blood loss, and my hearing had gone kind of funny. She looked blurry, and she sounded muffled and far away as she tried to touch me with shaking fingers, but was afraid of hurting me. I closed my eyes as she kissed me, not even caring that I was all disgusting and bloody. Even though I was kinda mad at her for seeing me like this, even in this semi-conscious state, my heart leaped at her kiss. I tried to protest when she pulled out her cell to dial 9-1-1, but I could no longer form words. Instead, I just groaned, my eyes rolled over, and I finally succumbed to unconsciousness with Candy weeping and clutching my hand, begging me to hold on until the ambulance got there. I wanted to tell her to just let me fucking die already, but instead of saying the words, I just passed out.
CHAPTER NINE
Candace
When Ty dropped me off that night after we made love— because it felt like so much more than sex— I went inside feeling... soft. I was glowing and giddy from having such amazing sex, but that giddiness was tempered by a kind of muted grief over my and Ty's mutual pain. I could only imagine the magnitude of the pain and guilt that he had to endure every single day that he didn't even deserve because he really was such a lovely person. Sure, he was rough around the edges and maybe a bit of a hooligan, but his heart was pure gold and I loved him for it.
Yes, I loved him. The moment we kissed on my porch and he whispered goodbye, I knew I was in love. I couldn't wait to see him again. And part of me, I think, hoped to rescue him. I wanted to be there for him, to love him so deeply that all that pain inside of him would finally heal and he'd get to be a whole, contented human being. I didn't even know if it was possible, but the affection in my heart for him was so intense it felt like my heart would burst out of my chest at any moment. I knew I had to try.
What I didn't count on, however, was Ty not wanting to be loved.
I sent him a little text the next day, just to check in. I sent it not long after I got up, then I had a leisurely breakfast with my folks before meeting up with Nina. I hadn't seen her in a while and we had so much catching up to do. We went to the ma
ll and walked around, but I was so preoccupied telling her about Ty that I couldn't even look at the shops. She told me about her new girlfriend, we got milkshakes and then walked around some more. It felt so good to hang out with her again, and as nice as it was to get away from Philly during the semester, I missed my friend.
It wasn't until I was explaining how I met Ty that I remembered about Brad.
"It's a funny story," I was saying, "he works at this bar where Brad and me— oh, fuck."
"Huh? You fuck at a bar?"
"No! The night I met Ty, Brad got— oh, goddammit, it's a long story. I was supposed to go see Brad yesterday, but I forgot..."
"Because you were with Ty," Nina commented with a grin.
"Yeah." I rubbed my face and sighed, exhausted. "Nina, honestly, I don't care if I never see Brad again."
"I've been waiting for this," she admitted, but I barely even heard her.
"He makes me feel bad about myself. He never listens to me. He doesn't even care about me, doesn't give a fuck that I'm sober, he makes awful comments about my weight all the time even though he knows I have issues. He constantly embarrasses me in public, he twists everything I say and turns everything around on me. No matter what he says or does, it always ends up being my fault. You know he got beat up at Ty's bar because he was being a jackass? He abandoned me there and then somehow found a way to blame me for it! And you know what's worse?"
"You apologized?" Nina intoned sardonically.
"I apolo—... wha... yes! How did you—?"
"You've taken the blame for much worse before," she said with a shrug. "That boy is a malignant narcissist, honey. He's textbook."
"I guess that's what I get for having a psychologist as a friend," I sighed, resting my chin in my hand. "Ty makes me feel so good in every way possible. He's such a gentleman in his own way, and he just... makes me feel comfortable in my own skin. I actually ate a meal with him that first day!"
"What!?" Nina sat up and looked at me incredulously. "Usually it takes you weeks to feel comfortable eating around a guy!"
"Two months before I could eat around Brad," I agreed. "I just feel such a deep connection with Ty. His family is wonderful too, his brother is... well..." I bit my lip. "He's disability is really bad, like he's in a wheelchair and everything, but once I got to know him, I found out how funny and sweet he really is."
"It's almost like people with disabilities have personalities," Nina said sarcastically.
"Well, he made me nervous at first," I said, shrugging, "I couldn't even understand him that first day and he just looked so fragile, you know? But they're really sweet together, and I got used to the way he talks. He and Ty are like, so cute, and Ty's mom is really nice and sweet too..."
"Wow, you really do have it bad," Nina laughed. "Good for you, babe, I hope you get over that preppy creep fast."
"Who's a preppy creep?" said a voice behind me that made the hair on my neck stand on edge. A shudder ran through me and I held my breath as I looked over my shoulder.
Sure enough, there was Brad, for some reason with his arm in a sling, even though it hadn't even been bandaged when I saw him in the hospital. On top of that, there was a patch over his bruised eye, even though it worked just fine. What a fucking attention whore. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Nina, giving her a Get a load of this guy look.
"This guy Candace knows called Chad," Nina said with a grin. "Totally not you. Obviously."
"Fucking dike bitch," Brad grumbled.
"Don't talk to my friend like that!" I cried, leaping to my feet. "I've had about enough of your bullshit, Bradley Thomas Meyer!" I jammed my hands into my hips, scowling at him with all the fury I could muster.
"Whoa, Candace, calm down," he said, raising his hands in a placating manner. "Be quiet, or you'll give me a migraine. I'm very fragile right now."
"No, you're not! You're fine!"
"If I'm fine then why do I have a sling and an eyepatch?" he whined. "Don't be a bitch. You obviously don't even care about me, though, since you never came to see me yesterday. I waited for you all day... I was so alone and in so much pain..."
I felt like the extreme opposites of my emotions were going to tear me apart; on the one hand, I was angry and frustrated and ready to give Brad a reason to whine if he didn't back off; on the other hand, I felt bad for forgetting about him. He was doing that puppy dog face that never failed to tear down my defenses. I hated being empathetic, sometimes. Life would've been so much easier if I could be like Brad and just not give a flying fuck about anyone else's feelings.
"I was busy, and it's not like your life was in danger," I said. The words just kind of came out. They weren't what I would have planned to say, exactly, but I felt good about myself for not playing into his guilt-trip.
"Busy doing what?" he demanded.
"None of your damn business," I shot back and looked away, my face flushing at the thought of being in Ty's arms, safe, loved and sexually fulfilled.
"I think it is my business," Brad countered, reaching for my wrist. I stepped back, and Nina leaped to her feet behind me. "You're my girlfriend, remember?"
"No, I'm not," I said without thinking.
All three of us went quiet, stunned into silence for a moment.
"What... what do you mean?" Brad said, at last, his lower lip trembling.
"I... I mean I want to break up," I said, my heart pounding, my whole body shaking with fear because I had no idea what Brad might do if he got upset. Suddenly, I was glad we were in the food court at the mall, and I was really glad that Nina was there with me. I felt her hand on my arm, giving me a gentle squeeze, encouraging me. I stood up a little taller and planted my feet. "Dating you makes me miserable, Brad, and nothing I do is good enough for you. I think you'd be happier with someone else."
"Shouldn't I be the judge of that?" he said grandly.
"It doesn't matter," Nina piped up. "Candace is not happy and she's breaking up with you."
"Yeah," I said.
"Fuck you," Brad snapped, jabbing his finger in the air at Nina. He turned on me, his eyes gleaming with rage. His cheeks were bright red and I could see his shoulders heaving. I had seen him like this before, once or twice, usually, after he'd been drinking, and frankly, I was terrified. My resolve started crumbling because that look on his face usually meant he was about to hit me, and he was smart enough to only beat me in ways that wouldn't show when I was clothed. "You can't break up with me." He stepped toward me.
"Y-yeah I can," I said, my voice shaking. I took a step back, but Nina put her other hand on my arm, bolstering my resolve.
"Oh, I see how it is— you're a fucking dike now too, aren't you?" He sneered at Nina. "The hell did you do, you fucking cunt? Did you brainwash my girlfriend or something? I knew you were all recruiters—"
"No!" I burst out. "Nina has a girlfriend and besides— I'm not fucking Nina. I'm fucking Ty."
"Who?"
"Ty. Ty Franklin. The biker guy who runs that bar? The one who rescued me when your cowardly ass ran away, abandoning me? Yeah. Ty is ten times the man you'll ever be and he cares about me. He makes me feel like a real woman. After getting fucked by him, no way could I ever be with you again. Besides that, his dick is huge."
I watched with wave after wave of sick satisfaction as Brad absorbed this information, his face morphing through expressions of realization, horror, shame, and eventually, embarrassment. Finally, he settled his face into its usual, chillingly neutral expression and gave a single nod.
"Okay," he said. "Fine."
I was surprised by the sudden acquiescence. My eyebrows arched and I didn't mean for it to sound like a question but I said, "Fine?"
"Yep. Bye."
He turned on his heels and walked off without another word.
I was shaking all over. When Brad left the food court, my knees went completely soft and I would've probably collapsed to the ground if it weren’t for Nina. She caught me and helped me sit down.
"That
was fucking heroic," she said. "Candace, that was amazing."
"I— I—... I feel sick," I whispered, tears of fear and confusion welling up in my eyes as I tried to comprehend what had just happened. I had dumped Brad, and I had been fully prepared to have a long, drawn-out fight about it, but he had just... caved. It felt too easy, honestly. I was relieved that he was gone, but in the pit of my stomach, I felt only dread for what might happen later. Would he ignore me forever and pretend like we never even dated?
Or would he want revenge?
***
The next few days were weird, to say the least. I tried getting in touch with Ty a few more times, but he never responded. I was worried about him at first, but then I just got depressed as I realized that he probably didn't care that much about me. He probably thought I was just some shallow goody-two-shoes and didn't want anything to do with me. I thought that I proved him wrong. I thought we made a real, deep, strong connection... evidently, I was wrong. I cried about it plenty, then settled into a kind of hollow feeling of vindication; my lifelong suspicions that all men are pigs now thoroughly confirmed. I started to wonder if maybe Nina had the right idea. I'd been attracted to girls before, maybe I should just... swear off men.
I was one of those people who was always dating someone, but with Brad gone and Ty basically ignoring me, I was practically... well, single. It was a strange feeling. At first, I didn't know what to do with myself, but then, once I'd shed my tears and wallowed in my self-pity, I realized how much more time I had as a single person. Instead of constantly worrying about some jerk and his feelings, I was free to do... whatever. I slept late. I read trashy romance novels. I baked. I went to the mall. I saw friends— Nina and other people that I hadn't seen in a long time. I felt like a weight had been lifted. I felt so free. I went for long walks through the city by myself, enjoying my own company just fine. I had never really given singlehood a chance, but hell... it was pretty nice.
Trust Me: A Bad Boy MC Romance Page 9
