“How is he?”
“Out of surgery and on the mend. They had to get the bullet out, but no long-term damage done.”
Sighing with relief, I hold my hand to my chest. “Thank God.”
“How’s the leg?”
“Sore, but on the mend.”
“Fuck. You were lucky that he didn’t hit a main artery.” His face hardens and I watch as he pushes back his shoulders. His jaw ticks and I sense he’s holding back his anger.
“No need to worry about that now,” I say, reaching and stroking his forearm in an attempt to calm him. “Jeffries is gone.”
“Should’ve happened a long time ago. I’m glad he’s finally out of the picture.”
“We all are.” I nod. I grab the edge of the sheets that cover my legs and throw them back. “Let’s get out of this place. It’s starting to freak me out and all I really want right now is my own bed.”
“What... wait… are you sure you’re okay and ready to go home? I’m not sure the doctors will agree. You should wait until they come around and give you the okay.”
“I’ll sign myself out. All I can do now is rest. How can I do that in a place like this? One night is definitely enough.” Grabbing my weak leg, I guide it off the side and step up. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Tucked up in my bed, I melt into the soft but supportive pillow beneath me. “Ahh, it feels so good to be home.” Izzy sits beside me, pulling the bedsheets over.
“I’m fine, Izzy. You don’t need to baby me.”
“Oh, shush, you,” she scorns playfully. “I’m taking care of you. Ooh, I almost forgot.” She reaches onto the table beside the bed, grabbing my purse and phone and placing them on my lap.
“Your mom called. You might want to call her back.”
I lift the phone and sigh when I see the number of times she’s tried to call. “Tomorrow. I promise I’ll call her tomorrow. Not sure I’m going to be able to explain this all to her without her flipping out. You know how much she hates bikers. This will only give her ammunition to justify her hate for everything MC.”
“Whatever you decide, you need to tell her about the baby. Because after a few months that’s something you won’t be able to hide.”
Dread fills my stomach and it rolls, making me feel sick instantly. “I gotta speak to him, Iz. I gotta know if there was any truth in what Jeffries said.”
“And if there is? What then?”
With a pained look, I shake my head. “I don’t know. If it is true, why didn’t he tell me? If he knew all along, why would he want me to keep it so badly?”
“Doesn’t make sense. It’s probably more Jeffries bullshit. Talk to Nate. I’m sure he’ll clear it up.”
“I will. Oh, how’s Melody?” I blurt out, suddenly remembering that she’s at the club and wondering how her recovery is going.
“I heard the guys talking and it looks like she’s up and about, helping around the club.”
“That’s good,” I say with a smile.
“I should really head out. Leave you to rest.”
“Thanks for being here for me today.”
“Don’t thank me. That’s what friends are for. Now rest. I need you back at work.”
“Talk about ulterior motive.”
“You bet.” Leaning in she kisses me on the head before making her way out of the room. “Brax will make sure Nate makes it home okay. You rest. I don’t want you worrying about a thing.”
“Thank you,” I say with a smile.
With a wave, she slips from her position in the doorframe and disappears from sight.
Exhaustion takes hold of me and I can no longer stop my eyes from closing.
Nate
“Thanks for this, man,” I say, looking across at Brax sitting beside me.
“Anytime.”
“I should be with Tara looking after her. Fucking shoulder,” I say, lifting it but instantly grimacing as the soreness turns to pain.
“Had to get it fixed, man.”
Sighing, I know he’s right. “So those fuckers, the Deathseekers, tried to screw with us. When we turned up to the address that Precious gave us, they were there. And we were ambushed.”
He snaps his head to the side, his eyes wide. “What the fuck? Why am I just hearing of this?”
“Wait, there’s more.”
“Fuck. I don’t like the sound of this.”
“It was because of Hunter that I found my father. I’ve been working with him, and honestly believe he is a better option for the Deathseekers.”
“He’s a fucking kid!”
“Some say that about me. But look. I stepped up, and I believe he can do the same.”
“I think your judgement is seriously misplaced.”
Glaring at him, I know I have my work cut out for me, convincing him that the Deathseekers are the right option to take over the drug deal. “You were right about the girl being his Achilles heel. And I’ve used that to my full advantage. Plaza is now under Savage management. It’s in his interest to work with me.”
“Work with you on what, exactly?” He sighs with exaggeration.
“The drugs—"
“No fucking way.”
He frowns and clutches the steering wheel tighter, his eyes stare widely through the windshield.
“You need to hear me out, man,” I say, trying to push myself up, adjusting in my seat. “They fucking ambushed us. I had to give them something. I had to buy my way out of the fucking situation. Hunter spoke with me and gave me the address to where my father was holding Tara. I owe him my fucking life for that.”
“He did the right thing. And for that, you owe him nothing.” Brax’s words are as cold as his demeanor.
“He may have done the right thing, but he went against his own father and club to make that decision. And the only way out of this mess was to promise Brewer the drug deal with you.”
Unexpectedly, I jerk forward, the wheels screech as he brakes harshly, forcing the car to halt. “You did fucking what now?”
“Believe me, I had no choice. And I need you to go along with it.”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“I did what I had to. I thought you would understand.”
“This is a business deal, Nate. Not some whore you can share around. I don’t deal with the Deathseekers for a reason. I don’t fucking trust them.”
“I don’t trust Brewer. But I do trust Hunter. He knows his father’s days are numbered. And when I deal with him, Hunter will be the obvious choice. He’ll be the one to take the head of the table.”
“You’re crazy, you know that right? You have a lot riding on those ifs and buts. Risky fucking strategy.”
“It’s worth the risk, man.” I let my head drop back against the headrest and Brax pulls away, continuing our journey home.
After a short drive, we pull up outside the house. “Think on it, man. Let’s get together and talk over it again. Meet with them, make it all look legit.”
“Go look after your girl.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, offering him my hand.
Knowing Tara is inside, I leap from the car and race over to the door. My shoulder hurts bad. But in this moment, I don’t care. I hate that we had to be separated at the hospital and she came home without me. Digging for my keys, I unlock the door and close it quietly behind me. I head into the living room, but she isn’t there. Taking the stairs, I head to the bedroom and a small amount of light streams from the open door of the room.
“Nate?” she calls, her voice sounding a little distressed.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I let her know, making my way into the room. Her now short hair is tied up into a messy bun, the cuts on her neck covered with gauze. Her face is bruised and swollen, and just the sight of her fucked-up face has my blood pumping with anger.
“Thank God it’s you.” Holding her chest, she looks up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers. “How’s the shoulder?”
“Painful, but I’m
just glad to be back here with you. How are you, baby? I’m sorry… so fucking sorry. I should never have let this happen.”
“Please… don’t,” she murmurs, tapping the bed, her eyes pleading with me as she gives me an open invitation.
Pushing off my boots, I head over to the bed.
Sliding down beside her I reach up and place my hand on the side of her face. “I need to know that you’re okay. No pretense. Just the truth.”
“Okay? Not really.” She shakes her head. “But I am relieved and grateful for you for coming to my rescue. I’m not sure I would’ve survived much longer with that… that... monster.” Pressing her lips together, her eyes flutter shut and I feel her shudder against me.
Grimacing, guilt hits me like a sucker punch to the stomach. “This shouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry.”
“He’s gone now.” Her voice is no more than a whisper.
“Just us, baby.” I kiss her lightly on the lips, but she doesn’t reciprocate. I pause for a second before pulling back and searching her watery eyes for a sign. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. With everything that’s happened, I’m a mess.”
I swallow down the lump of nerves that has formed in my throat. “Don’t push me away. Please.”
“Just hold me,” she pleads, burying her head against my chest.
* * *
My eyes are glued to the clock on the table beside the bed. Tara has finally drifted off and right now, all I want is my nicotine fix. Gently, I ease out from beneath Tara, careful not to disturb her. Heading downstairs, I make my way out to the yard, slipping down into the swing seat. I pull out my smokes and lighter and tip the packet. Grabbing a cigarette between my teeth, I let my thumb slide over the wheel until the flame ignites. With a shudder, I can’t help but close my eyes tightly, thinking back to the image of my father burning in the chair. I made him pay. I revenged my own father and all the fucked-up things he did to Tara, and without a doubt, I did the right thing. So why do I feel conflicted. Why does my throat feel thick with emotion and a hefty dose of guilt?
What if I’ve turned into my father? What if I’m no better than the monster whose life I just ended?
Shaking my head, I lift the cigarette to my lips and take a huge drag. What I did to my father will stay with me forever. But so will the pain of knowing what he did to Tara. Stepping from the swing, I pace, slowly, back and forth. I need something to take the edge of. To make me forget and push out this overwhelming feeling of guilt. Snapping my eyes open, I grab my phone, dialing his number.
“Prez? Are you okay, man?” Davo says as he answers the phone.
“I need you to talk me down, brother.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fucked up.”
“This is about your father?” he asks with a sigh.
He knows me so well. “How d’ya know?”
“Because only the good guys feel guilt. But hear this. You did the right fucking thing, man. Your father would’ve stopped at nothing.”
“But what I’ve done.” I pause, resting my smoke against my lips while my fingers work over my forehead, pressing and pinching. “Makes me just as bad as him.”
“No! Don’t you say that. You are ten times the man Jeffries was. You love hard and you honor your brothers. You need to get this shit out of your head, brother. Your girl needs you. More than ever. Go take care of her. Show her that you fought for her for a reason.”
Nodding, I allow my head to drop back. “Fuck, you’re right, man.”
“Hell yeah, I am.” His chuckle vibrates through the phone and I can’t help but smile.
“How’s Melody doing?”
“She’s doing really well, man. All credit to you.”
“To the club,” I reply, correcting him.
“What are we planning to do about the Deathseekers?”
Rolling my eyes, I let out a huge breath. “I’m working on it. But Brax ain’t happy. Dealing with the Deathseekers is an absolute no from him.”
“It’s a risk, brother. Brax builds his business on the things he can control. Good, sound business decisions. That’s how he’s so successful.”
“I need him to see that Hunter is the future for the Deathseekers.”
“We just have to be sure that when we take out Brewer, that Hunter doesn’t turn on you for killing his father. He’s young, and so far the MC is all he knows.”
“He ratted on his own club.” I take one last drag of my smoke before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with the tip of my boot. “He’s been helping me. His own club will turn on him the minute they find out. We all know what happens if they find a rat amongst the club.”
“Leverage!” he speaks excitedly.
“Exactly!”
“Fuck, brother. You’re good at this.”
Chuckling, I lift my head and turn back toward the house. “I never knew I wanted to be prez. Sure, it’s in my blood. But there’s more to leading a club than being a descendent of the previous leader. It’s about thinking smart and putting others first. All I want you guys to know is that everything I do is for the good of the club.”
“We know. Now go. Take care of Tara. She needs you more than we do right now.”
“I’m worried about her, man. She seems distant. Just don’t know what the fuck to say to make her feel better.”
“Just be there.”
“I’ll try, man. Listen, thanks for this. I appreciate it, brother.”
“Always.”
Pulling the phone away from my ear, I throw it down against the swing before dropping down on it, lifting my legs and allowing it to swing. I drop my head back, letting out a huge breath. How the hell am I going to fix this? Fix her?
Tara
Waking suddenly, I push myself to an upright position, my eyes darting and focusing on the figure at the end of the bed. Blinking, I watch as his smile grows.
“Hey,” he says softly. “You slept well.”
Pushing hair away from my face, I smile back. “You didn’t come back to bed.”
“Sorry, baby. Couldn’t sleep.”
The look on his face tells me he’s having a hard time with this. With what he did to his father. “You look sad, angry even. Is this about Jeffries?” I almost choke on the name as I force it out.
“I’m fine, honestly.”
Lie. I know he isn’t.
“So everything was okay with the baby? They checked you over?” he asks.
“Yep,” I reply, biting the corner of my lip. I feel like I can’t avoid this any longer. I thought about leaving it. “I have my first appointment with the obstetrician soon.”
“Good,” he says, shuffling until he’s sitting right beside me. Stopping, his eyes lock with mine before narrowing.
“What’s wrong?”
I drop my eyes, losing contact with his gaze. I grab at the sheet and play with it nervously. “Nate…” I pause, wondering how I’m going to say this. “I, uh, need to know something.”
“Baby, you’re scaring me. What is it?” His forehead crinkles and he dips his head in an attempt to catch my eye. I look at him, tears pooling.
“Is it true that you’re infertile? That you know this baby isn’t yours?”
“What the hell…”
“I need to know, Nate. You know how I feel about you. If this baby is yours I just know I need to keep her... him... it. But knowing it’s the result of your father raping me. Well, I just can’t do it. I can’t live with the terror he put me through staring back at me for the rest of my life.”
“This baby is mine,” he says with a harsh tone of finality.
“So you weren’t ill as a teenager? Told you wouldn’t be able to have children?”
“What? Why would you ask me that?”
“Answer the question, Nate,” I say in a raised voice, my eyes wide and waiting for a clear answer.
“No. I don’t think so. I don’t know,” he rushes out dropping his head and shaking
it from side to side.
“You don’t know?” I ask, my voice a whisper and I cover my mouth as I let out a controlled gasp. “How can you not know?” I throw back the sheets and slowly step up from the bed. My leg is stiff, but I need to go to the bathroom. Bile stings my throat and I’m not sure I can keep it down.
“Stop,” he yells, grabbing my free wrist.
“Don’t,” I mumble, my hand still covering my mouth. I snap my wrist from his hold and hobble as quickly as I can over to the bathroom, dropping to my knees when the toilet is in sight. Retching, I empty the small contents of my stomach, the muscles in my tummy aching with the force of the contractions.
“Shit, T, are you okay?”
Unable to answer, I shake my head from side to side, reaching up and grabbing a handful of toilet paper. Wiping my mouth, I drop back until my ass hits the cold tiled floor. “I have to know the truth, Nate.”
“Honestly, I remember being ill when I was just a kid. I don’t recall them telling me I’d be infertile.”
“I need more than that.”
Lowering himself until he’s sitting beside me, he takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “This baby is mine. I know it. I feel it in here.” Using his other hand he taps his chest lightly.
My heart thumps in my chest and I love his passion and desire for this baby. “It’s not enough.”
“What? Me. Is it me?”
“No!” I gasp. “I love that you feel so strongly about this baby that you’ll do whatever it takes to make it work. But what happened to me, Nate, it eats away in here.” I tap the side of my head. “And here too,” I say, pointing to my chest. “How could I bring a child into this world with the possibility that it will just be an ugly reminder of the rape. There’s every chance I could resent the baby, and that wouldn’t be fair on anyone.”
“But there’s also a chance that the minute you set eyes on the baby that you’ll love it no matter what.”
“A child should be a product of love. Not rape and torture.”
“Listen. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll go see a doc. Find out from my medical record if there’s any truth to this. But, baby. I’m pretty sure I would remember something like that.”
The complete scars series: Books one-four Page 80
