by Addison Jane
Standing up slowly, I tried to ignore the way Romeo was looking at me like he was trying to shoot me down with his eyes, but at the same time, I also saw the hurt and the pain behind them. “What do you mean?”
“John Visser…” he pointed down the table at the file, “… your fucking sheriff was my foster parent when Mom and Dad died.”
It was like a fist full of lead to the stomach. It threw me off balance and made me unsteady. My heart was already thumping harder and faster, the blood pumping so quickly I could hear it whooshing around my ears.
“The scar on your face,” Optimus pointed out, the first one brave enough to talk or take control of the situation. This was the whole reason he was in charge.
Romeo’s top lip twitched baring his teeth. Reaching up, he brushed his fingers over the prominent feature, one that I’d started to get used to. “Meyah ain’t the first one to feel what it’s like to piss off the great and mighty fucking sheriff.”
I placed my palms flat on the surface of the table letting my head hang down between my arms and cursing under my breath.
Romeo began to pace at the end of the table. “Look, when Ham said MC, this isn’t what I imagined. I didn’t realize there would be kids and old ladies here. People who are vulnerable and who he could use to get to me.”
Op leaned back in his chair. “You thought you’d walk into an MC which was all about drugs running and being fucking assholes… people you were trying to get away from. So when we went after Visser, you wouldn’t feel guilty for losing one or two of us here and there?”
Romeo looked across the room at my president like he was impressed someone had been able to decode his plan so easily. “Exactly. I just needed some extra force behind me to back me up.”
“But instead you got us,” I snorted.
“Yeah, I got you. Something far fucking stronger,” Romeo shot back. “And that’s why he’s scared. Because suddenly I’m not alone anymore. I’m not that frightened teenage boy who watched anyone who stood up for me shot down or found a few days later floating in a fucking river.”
I got it.
The sheriff kept Romeo isolated. Kept him in line by taking away anyone who would fight for him or care for him. He stole anyone who might possibly give Romeo the strength to fight back.
“He would usually send someone else. A couple of his stupid fucking idiot goons that he recruits,” Romeo continued, this time a little calmer. “John Visser doesn’t do his fucking dirty work, that’s why he had me. I was his fucking bum boy.”
“You worked for him?” Blizzard asked, the boys all sounding eager to know Romeo’s story, while all I could do was imagine in my head the different things Romeo would have been forced to go through. What kind of sick and twisted shit he was made to endure. If this Visser guy could do this to Meyah without even blinking or breaking a sweat, what was he going to do to break down a guy like Romeo who was physically and mentally already a lot stronger?
“I got mixed up with the wrong kids when I was younger. Started doing drugs and hanging out at night, fighting, fucking, and just being a fucking douche bag,” Romeo continued almost robotically like this was a story he’d played over and over in his head like a bad movie. “I was a stupid teenager who’d just lost the people who meant the most to him. He took that weakness, and the fact I was already trying to numb the pain with the good shit and making connections on the streets and turned it into something else.”
Blizzard laughed, but it was dark like he just realized how fucked up this entire situation was. “He hand picked you,” Blizzard noted with a shake of his head. “He signed up to be a foster parent looking for someone with serious issues he could manipulate.”
“Meyah said the sheriff left a message… that Romeo better be back in Vegas in a week or…” I informed the group, letting the words hang in the air.
“Then we have time,” Optimus noted.
Romeo looked up at him, his eyes slightly wide. “Time for what?”
He thought the club was about to toss him out on his ass. He thought we were done, and that he was out on his own.
But this was just the beginning.
“Time to make a plan.”
My head hurt.
My neck hurt.
My face hurt.
“Come on,” Hadley urged, coming around the bed and sitting at the edge. She brushed a few stray strands back from my face, smiling softly. “Skins said that bandage on your neck was waterproof, and Chelsea said that we can use the bath they have in hers and Op’s room to wash some of this blood out of your hair.”
The bump on my head had hurt like hell and made me a little woozy, but luckily it only left a bump and hadn’t split open. All the blood in my hair had come from the cut on my neck. It was hard and gross, and I frantically wanted it gone.
“Okay,” I agreed, letting her pull back the blankets and help me turn my body and get to my feet.
I felt helpless, and I didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
We shuffled out of Ham’s room and down the hall to Chelsea and Op’s more substantial bedroom. They’d had their bathroom altered, so there was room for the twins without feeling too crazy and had also added a bath to make bathing them easier as well.
Chelsea looked up from the bed when we entered, quickly placing a bookmark in whatever she was reading and jumping up. The twins were both in bouncers on the floor, totally engrossed in the cartoon which was playing on the television above them. “Hey, baby girl,” Chelsea cooed softly like I was a toddler who’s just scraped my knee. These women weren’t all that much older than me, but they were incredibly motherly, which made me feel a little better especially knowing I wouldn’t be able to see my mom for at least a few days until the bruising on my face went down enough to hide with makeup. And I had to come up with a good enough fucking excuse for the scar that now decorated my neck.
“I ran the bath. You can get in, wash your hair, relax a little, and we will sit just outside,” Chelsea explained, opening the door to the small but warm bathroom.
I nodded, excited at the prospect of being able to wash away the scum of the day. The water burned my skin, but I didn’t realize until that moment how much I needed that. I needed it to scold me and feel like it was killing his touch which I could still feel on my skin. Dipping my hair into the water, the clear liquid was instantly tinted pink. It urged me on forcing me to go almost strand by strand through my hair meticulously cleaning the feeling of fear.
That’s what it was.
I’d never had to deal with this before.
It was hard to admit to myself I was weak, and that maybe I wasn’t made for this like the other women were. I’d always been pretty sheltered and protected behind a force of men, who all looked at me like I was their niece. This time I’d been thrown into the deep end.
I was a part of this—a big part of this.
It wasn’t just a threat anymore, this was action. Action that resulted in amateur cosmetic surgery on my neck and a partial concussion.
Things had changed today—Ham had finally stood up and told them I was his, much to my Uncle’s horror. It was a big step, and I wasn’t just a family member on the sidelines anymore.
I was an Old Lady, and that petrified and excited me both at the same time.
“How you doing, baby girl?” Hadley asked, poking her head through the doorway.
I looked up at her not realizing just how emotional I’d become in those few moments, and I sniffled loudly, the awkward sound followed by a laugh. “I’m a mess.” I giggled trying to wipe away my tears unsuccessfully with wet hands. She rushed inside with a knowing smile on her face, leaving the door into the room open. Rose and Skylar had both joined the pity party I was throwing which seemed to make this all so much more amusing. These amazing women, powerful and beautiful women, who you would never catch bawling their eyes out, in a bathtub.
“Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours,” Hadley asked, sitting at the side
of the tub and pulling a couple of strands of hair into her hands slowly separating them and washing the darkened blood away.
“I’m not strong like you, Hadley,” I whispered, emotion choking me. I licked my lips, tasting my tears and not the bath water. “How the hell do you handle these kinds of things?”
“Exactly how you are right now.” Chelsea chuckled, coming to stand in the doorway. “We close the door. We get in the bath, and we cry. We get angry, and we wonder why we do this time after time after time. And then we get out, we dry ourselves off, and we go to our men. We stand beside them, and we do it all over again.”
I stared at her, wondering if she was being honest. “What?”
It was hard for me to believe someone like Chelsea—the club’s first lady—had moments where she broke down and asked herself why.
Hadley rolled her eyes, and she wasn’t the only one. Skylar and Rose did, too.
“What she’s trying to say is… love knows no bounds here. We all walked into this knowing full well there would be times where shit was going to hit the fan, and we would have not to just fight to protect ourselves and possibly our children, but we would have to do it while completely trusting and supporting our men.”
I drew my knees to my chest, hugging them tightly. “I’m scared.” It took everything in me to admit those two words. I was absolutely terrified, and I fucking hated it. I hated that I couldn’t just bounce back with a vengeance in my heart, ready to take this guy on and take him down. I hated that I wasn’t angrier, that I didn’t fight back harder, and that I was letting this hurt me so badly I was second guessing myself.
“Here’s where you make your decision,” Hadley continued. “Loving your man is loving the club and everything that the club stands for. Loving your man means knowing there’s going to be times when he will be put in dangerous situations, but knowing he’s doing it for our family.”
The sincerity and love in her words touched my soul. Even more so because I knew it was my uncle she felt that way about. They scared the shit out of me but warmed me at the same time.
“Loving your man means knowing there will be times where he has to do… things,” Chelsea added as she leaned against the door frame. “But knowing it doesn’t change the man you fell in love with, and that everything he does is for the people he loves.”
My heart pounded a little harder. These women, these amazing and beautiful, strong and independent women, they were everything I admired. Everything I wanted to be. I wanted to be able to stand up and say fuck you to the world. I wanted to be stronger.
“Loving your man is knowing he has demons and loving him more because of them,” Skylar added from in the other room. “There will be times when he needs you more than you need him.”
I didn’t want to be that broken girl people felt like they could pick on—like the sheriff had done today and Nick had done last year. I loved the club. These people had become more important to me than I ever could have imagined. They’ve stood by me. They’ve stood for me. They’ve made feel like I actually had a family and had a place in a world where I always wondered what my part was. They encouraged me to fight, to take control, and stop letting other people tell me what to do. They were the reason I wasn’t scared to have a voice anymore.
“Loving him is knowing that things won’t always be perfect,” Rose called from the other room, and I could already feel the smile in her voice. “But who the hell wants perfect anyway.”
All the girls laughed and nodded their heads.
“We weren’t all just born to be proud kick ass females who take no shit and protect their men fiercely.” Hadley grinned, continuing to play with my hair in the water.
“Way to be humble.” Rose laughed from the other room.
“I mean it,” she continued. “You think we haven’t all, at some point, thought maybe we weren’t made for this life? Every one of us has questioned whether this was where we were meant to be. Then we try to imagine our lives without them. Without the club. Without these people around us, and we remember why we chose this life.”
There was a hard thump on the door, and Chelsea quickly moved, pulling the bathroom door almost completely shut. “Come in,” she called.
“She okay?”
I melted at the sound of his voice.
I wanted him.
Hadley knew instantly and climbed off the edge of the bath holding her round belly. “She’s in here,” Hadley called as she headed for the door.
“Thank you,” I murmured before she stepped out.
She just smiled over her shoulder at me and winked.
Ham appeared closing the door silently behind him and coming to the side of the bath. He crouched down beside me, reaching out and placing his palm against my good cheek. I leaned into it seeking the comfort he seemed to exude naturally, making me feel safe and secure. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently cupping his other hand and filling it with warm water before lifting it to my exposed shoulders and pouring it over them. The gesture was everything.
Taking a deep breath, I decided honesty was my best policy at that moment. “I’m scared, Ham.”
His eyes instantly darkened. “I know, I should have been there. You should have never been left in a situation where—”
“No,” I cut in, shaking my head and sitting a little taller in the water bringing our faces a little closer. I lifted my hand placing it on his face like he’d just done to mine. “I’m scared I’m not enough. I’m scared that I’m too weak. I don’t want you to feel like you have to constantly keep watch over me,” I told him honestly.
“Meyah—”
“I want to be able to stand beside you, to be stronger than I am today and fight back. I don’t want to let them get the best of me.” His face was rough and prickly, and just that made me smile, along with the fact his cheek was now wet. “But it will take time. I might not be there right now, but I will be.”
He placed his hand on the back of my head and drew me forward dipping his lips to meet mine. His tongue swiped across my lips enticing them to open, to which they kindly obliged. He tasted like mint, and if I had to guess three to four shots of bourbon. I savored the taste as he pulled back licking the alcohol off my lips.
“That’s bullshit,” he argued, not letting me go, holding me right where he knew I was paying attention to what he had to say. “All of that is complete bullshit. You’re strong. You’re beautiful. And you’re passionate about the people and things you love. You’re not weak for being scared, you’re not weak because your first reaction to a situation is to run.”
At that moment, I swear I couldn’t have loved him more.
Did I believe all the shit he was saying? Not exactly, but I heard him.
“You don’t have to do this shit alone. I know it’s scary. I know sometimes shit will happen which makes you question whether this is what you want.” It was like he could hear all my fears. He could see them in my eyes. He saw me. When I was invisible, he saw me. “Just promise me, if that question goes through your mind, you’ll come to me.”
I nodded. “I will.”
“Promise.”
Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh. “I promise.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Good. Now either you’re getting out of there, or I’m getting in because I fucking need you right now.”
“You want Optimus to put a foot up your ass for doing the dirty in his bath?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
He cringed. “Good point. I’ll get a towel.”
“She draws?” Romeo asked as we walked down the long hall. The media room was directly at the end, and the door was open giving us a perfect view of her sitting on one of the sofas, her knees pulled up, and her sketch pad in her lap.
“Yeah.”
He hummed low in his throat. “She any good?”
I raised my eyebrow. “Why?”
Lifting his arms up, he rolled them around, giving me a good look
at the ink that covered his arms. “I still got a few spaces I need to cover,” he noted, pointing to a few small patches of clear skin which were honestly less than two inches by two inches.
Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “What you gonna put there? A bug?”
He huffed under his breath. “Yeah, I’m gonna call him Hamlet, so whenever you piss me the fuck off, I can pretend to smush you.” When he didn’t get a reaction from me, he continued… “Then I’m gonna get another one named Meyah right next to my—”
“I’ll kill you in your sleep.”
His deep baritone chuckle, it was familiar but also new, thanks to the way Romeo’s voice had changed since he was a teen. The sound filled my lungs with air, it fucking meant everything even though I still felt like I needed to beat the shit out of him just for that remark about Meyah alone. “And this is exactly why you asked me to do this, instead of doing it yourself,” he prodded, and he wasn’t exactly wrong, but it wasn’t the only reason.
I didn’t respond as we stepped into the media room, the movie playing on the television making me groan out loud. “Twilight? Again?”
Meyah finally looked up from her sketch pad with a sweet smile. “You complain, but you’ve sat through the entire series with me the past few days. I didn’t hear you complaining then.”
Romeo’s loud burst of laughter made me jump before he followed me into the room. “What are you? Team Edward or team Jacob, Hamlet?” he taunted, elbowing me in the ribs with a smug grin.
“The fact you know either of those terms tells me you aren’t exactly innocent,” Meyah noted with a soft giggle before turning back to her drawing. I, on the other hand, didn’t miss the guilty look on my brother’s face.
I decided to be the bigger man and ignore it and focus on the task at hand. “Romeo wants to chat with you about something.”
She looked up again, this time with her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Come again?” she asked, honestly confused as to why he would want to speak with her. I was impressed with the way the swelling on her cheek had gone down so quickly. I knew there was still some bruising, but at this stage, it was easily covered with a small bit of makeup.
