The End (New Adult Biker Gang Romance) (Night Horses MC Book 7)

by Sorana, Sarah

“Don’t wait for us, or anything,” Jackson called. “We’ll be fine here. No, really.”

  I stopped.

  “Do we need to go back?” I asked Merle.

  He shook his head.

  “If he’d wanted us to stay, he wouldn’t have been all sarcastic like that. Jackson is not subtle when shit needs doing.”

  I thought of the man knocking on the door and simply saying, “We’re fucked.”

  Sounded like Merle was right.

  I tried not to listen to what was happening behind us, but my ears couldn’t help but strain to hear.

  Nothing.

  It was silent.

  Merle and I walked out of the dusty building and shut the door.

  “Why don’t I drive?” Merle asked.

  Numbly, I took the key from my pocket and handed it to him.

  I couldn’t really think about anything but my father.

  About the betrayal. How… how hypocritical he was.

  Preaching perfect suburban morals and selling heroin.

  “What will they do to him?” I asked Merle after I’d sat in the passenger seat and buckled up on autopilot.

  He hesitated.

  “Depends on what he does and says,” he said. “There’s more information we need. Suppliers, connections. He’s a big piece, but not the only piece.”

  I nodded.

  “Hopefully, he’ll cooperate, and they’ll just let him go. Fucking up a family man in the community won’t do us any good. Going after the source will shut them down for a while,” Merle continued.

  I nodded again.

  I think I looked calm, outwardly, but inside I was a hurricane of misery. What the fuck happened?

  “Turn here,” I said.

  Merle did, without asking why.

  “I want… I want to see my mother,” I said.

  He nodded.

  The conversation with my mother was one of the worst of my life. Me and Merle sitting awkwardly on the sofa, fearing that my father would burst in at any minute, my mother seated on the edge of the chair, back ramrod-straight.

  I laid out my evidence calmly. Shockingly calmly. I guess I was better able to deal with it than I feared.

  Or maybe I was just not coping at all.

  Whatever.

  “I… I don’t know if I can believe this,” she said, finally.

  She looked like her world had been turned upside down and shaken like a snowglobe.

  Is that how I looked? I’d have to ask Merle later.

  I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

  I went to the recording I had just taken.

  Before I hit play, I met my mother’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  My father’s voice came from the speakers. Small. Tinny. A little hard to hear.

  Unmistakably, undeniably him.

  My mother’s mouth fell open.

  I was afraid she’d look shattered again. I didn’t want to see her broken.

  She didn’t.

  She was angry.

  I saw it in the tightening of her mouth, in the widening of her eyes.

  Her hands balled into fists on her knees.

  “I’m going to kill him,” she said.

  “Ma’am,” Merle began.

  She held up her hand.

  “I’m going to kill him,” she repeated. “He let our daughter be taken from me. Twice.”

  Merle wisely fell silent.

  When the recording was done, we all sat there in the silence for long minutes.

  “What now?” I asked.

  I really, really hoped that one of them had an answer, because I sure didn’t.

  “Now,” she said, “We have him arrested.”

  Merle cleared his throat. She nodded at him.

  “If you send cops to where he is now, two of my men will be arrested,” he said.

  My mother almost asked why the fuck she should care. I saw it in her eyes.

  “They’re two of the ones who have helped keep me safe,” I said.

  She nodded, slowly.

  “Okay. How do we have him arrested without having your… your men arrested?” she asked Merle.

  He winced, but he had a plan.

  “Simple is better than flashy,” he said.

  -----------------

  Jackson and Alex played their parts well, with a few texts of instruction from Merle.

  They were to let my father go. No matter how badly they wanted to get more information, they were to let him go.

  Jackson followed him and took notes on where he went before he finally came home.

  When my father came home that night, he found me and my mother sitting on the staircase inside, waiting for him.

  “I told her everything,” I said, nodding at my mother.

  We both stared at him.

  He didn’t say anything. There was not a trace of guilt on his face. There was not a trace of anything on his face.

  How much of a monster was my father, really?

  None of us spoke for a few more long seconds.

  “What I want to know,” my mother said. “Is how you started. How did you even find who to make a deal with?”

  “I read the police reports,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “I did this to save our marriage, to protect our family.”

  “Hard drugs ruin lives,” my mother spat, suddenly venomous. “Even if you did try to protect our life together, you ruined other people’s. Maybe killed them.”

  She stood up.

  “You helped a violent criminal kidnap our daughter,” she said.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Fuck. You. I’m filing for divorce,” she said.

  I didn’t know which was more shocking. My parents getting a divorce, or my mother cussing.

  This was all too much for me.

  I wanted Merle. I wanted to be wrapped in his arms. I wanted to be alone with him, held tight. I wanted him to never let me go.

  My father hit my mother then.

  None of us expected it.

  A backhanded slap across the face, hard enough to knock her half-over.

  I leapt up to catch her.

  Before I could fling myself at him, two of the cops who’d been waiting in the dark living room stepped out.

  “You have the right to remain silent,” one of them began, while the other pulled out handcuffs.

  My mother and I backed away, eyes fixed on my father.

  This was the part we couldn’t plan for.

  We didn’t know if he’d go along quietly, or fight them. He might have a weapon. He might not.

  It was all too hard to say.

  We held our breath.

  My father sighed. He put his hands together behind his back.

  “Fine,” he said.

  It wasn’t that easy, of course. Watching my father led away in handcuffs was fucking miserable.

  I watched my mother’s shoulders sag and put an arm around them. She turned and smiled at me, weakly.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should be the one comforting you. He’s your father.”

  “He’s your husband,” I said.

  It wasn’t until a cop car pulled up out front and collected my father and the other officers and a few minutes passed that Merle came back into the house.

  “It’s not over,” he said, quietly.

  “I know,” my mother said. “I think… I think I’d like to be alone.”

  I looked at her.

  I didn’t know whether or not to believe her. Was she just trying to protect me because she knew how desperate I was to get out of that house?

  Would she hurt herself if she were left rattling around the big house by herself?

  “Go,” she said. She didn’t bother to smile, but she patted my arm.

  It felt warm and good.

  Losing my father, losing the trust in him I had, was awful, but at least I still had my Mom.

  I
felt bad for myself, but I felt worse for her.

  Merle spoke up, voice full of respect.

  “Will you really be okay here? I’d feel better if I sent someone to keep an eye on the place,” he said. “Or you can come somewhere else with us. You shouldn’t stay here alone right now.”

  “I’m not safe in my own home thanks to my own husband,” she said, softly.

  Her voice grew stronger, and she looked up, meeting Merle’s eyes.

  There was a bruise forming on her cheek. The sight of it made my blood boil.

  “Please send someone. I’d like some privacy, but… I understand. You’re right,” she said. “I was going to ask if you wanted to take Bear with you, but… would you mind if he stayed with me?”

  My poor mother.

  I left the dog.

  We finally got out of there. Merle made the arrangements for someone to be at the house around the clock for a while.

  I hoped that it wouldn’t make my mother feel like a prisoner in her own home, but I couldn’t be sure.

  It was too much.

  It was all too much.

  I don’t remember how we got back to Merle’s place that night. I just remember Merle holding my hand and leading me into his cabin.

  “What do you need?” he asked.

  It was a simple question.

  I had no idea how to answer it.

  What did I need?

  I needed to stop feeling William’s hands all over me.

  I needed to graduate high school.

  I needed my mother to be her old self.

  I needed my father to have never done any of what he did.

  I needed to feel safe somewhere, anywhere.

  I needed not to feel trapped.

  I needed to feel useful.

  I needed Merle.

  I couldn’t say any of that.

  All I could do was shrug helplessly and stand there.

  Some small distant part of me wondered if I looked broken and shattered like my mother had in my room.

  Was I more like her than I realized?

  I didn’t know how I could even be thinking about something like that when I was so worried about every other fucking thing in my life. Whether or not I grow up to be my mother was, like, the least of my worries.

  Images kept flickering across my mind. How William looked on top of me. How dead and cold his eyes were. How my father’s eyes looked the same way, for that brief flash, when he saw me sitting next to my mother.

  Distantly, I realized that I had sunk to my knees on the floor.

  Someone was crying.

  It was probably me.

  As much as Merle loved me, I didn’t think it was him. He wouldn’t cry in that desperate, keening way.

  So, it had to be me.

  I didn’t know what I could do with my life. It felt like everything was broken. It felt like I was broken.

  No, there was one thing that was whole and good.

  As I cried, Merle just held me. He didn’t ask questions, he didn’t say anything. He held me and rocked me and stroked my hair, murmuring “Shh, shhh.”

  He held me until I let out all the poison I’d been holding back for days. It was an amazing feeling, an amazing show of love and support.

  That was the first thing I said, when I finally stopped crying enough to talk.

  “I love you.”

  He grinned and kissed my forehead, my cheek, my nose.

  “I love you too,” he said. “You’re wonderful.”

  “How can you say that?” I asked. “My father is the guy who fucked things up for you for years. He’s had people beat and kill your people. He’s a- a- a monster.”

  He tilted my chin up.

  “Do you think I’d ever rape anyone?” he asked.

  I frowned and shook my head.

  “No way,” I said. “No friggin’ way. You’ve had, like, a million opportunities that I know of. What does that have to do-”

  He cut me off, but gently.

  “Megan, sweetheart, my father is in prison for rape. Other things, too, sure, but my Dad is a rapist. Does that make me a rapist?”

  I shook my head.

  “No way,” I said. “No way in hell.”

  “You’re not a monster,” he said. “You’re strong, and you’re beautiful, and you’re intelligent, and you’re funny, and, okay, sometimes you’re a little too impulsive, and you’re clumsy, but you’re not a monster. No. Friggin’. Way.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Maybe.”

  I yawned.

  I was so tired I didn’t know how I was going to get into bed.

  Merle saw me looking, and pulled the sheet back. He scooped me up and set me down on his bed as though I were made of glass, and pulled the sheet and blanket over me.

  I hadn’t been tucked in like that since I was a child.

  The last person to do it was probably… my father.

  I turned to the wall and cried myself to sleep.

  ----------------

  I didn’t know if Merle slept in the bed with me or not. When I woke up, he was gone.

  That was okay.

  I took a few deep breaths. It was morning, and that was good. I had slept for a long time, and I felt… better.

  I probed at my own heart like when I was a kid and poked a loose tooth with my tongue.

  I wasn’t okay.

  That was okay.

  If I were okay, that would probably be bad.

  Baby steps.

  I spent the next few days just walking in a daze. The principal knew that my father had been arrested and my parents were divorcing, but I wasn’t excused from classes. Asshole.

  It made me wonder how many other kids had shown up after something like that.

  Probably most of them.

  I did make it to classes.

  I didn’t do any work. I didn’t answer any questions, in class or out. Even more rumors flew around. I didn’t care.

  Merle sent guys to pick me up and drop me off. Pretty sure he sent guys to keep an eye on me, too.

  I was okay with it.

  Teachers mostly passed me. I thought I’d fail gym, but when I said so, Merle shook his head.

  We were sitting on the dock, dipping our feet into the pond on the property. It was a little walk through the woods. I was starting to wonder if I’d ever know everything about the biker’s land.

  “Asshole let those football boys think they could get away with anything,” he said. “Alex had a few words with him. You’re gonna pass. No way you’re not graduating because of fucking gym.”

  I elbowed him. “Come on, I said you needed to cool it on the violence.”

  He grinned.

  “I did,” he said. “Alex is a lawyer. He threatened to sue. That’s much scarier.”

  “A lawyer?” I asked. “I thought he just worked in an office or something.”

  “He does,” Merle said. “A law office.”

  My boyfriend ducked before I could elbow him again.

  “He and Jackson met when Jackson was in the Army Rangers,” he explained. “Jackson and I did a couple of big deals to get the guy through law school, and we’re paying most of his loans off. In return, we have a very, very good lawyer.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “How’d you meet Jackson?”

  “We were kids together,” he said. “Both born into the Night Horses.”

  I nodded.

  “Good guys,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  We kept swinging our feet lazily. It was a hot day. Quiet. Beautiful.