Blood of Cupids

by Sophia Kenzie

  My father stepped off his bike and approached us, aiming his Colt .45 directly at Ryan’s forehead. His aim was unwavering, but his eyes were on me.

  “What did you do to her?” He roared.

  I stepped in, “Dad, it wasn’t him.”

  But I had spoken out of turn, and my father was not in the mood. For the third time today, I was backhanded across my face.

  Ryan let go of my hand. “You do not lay another fucking hand on her.” He threatened.

  My father dropped his gun to his side and stepped up to Ryan, both matching each other’s size. “She’s my daughter; I’ll do what I like to her.”

  “Not while I’m around.”

  “And what are you going to do about it?”

  Ryan didn’t cower, but turned back to me. “Grace, get out of here.”

  Before I could debate, my father reached out and pulled me into his side. “No. I promised her she would watch as I stuck a knife in your chest.”

  For someone who didn’t make promises, he was pretty content on keeping this one. I searched for a way to stop him. There was only one thing I could think to do. “Dad, no, please, just let him go. I’ll do anything you say. I’ll come home. I’ll never see him again.”

  Ryan rebutted, “Fuck that!”

  “Ryan, shut up, it’s the only way.”

  “No. I won’t let you do that.”

  Yesterday that might have worked, but today, with my shirt ripped open revealing a knife trail down my body, my father was not leaving without another hash mark tattoo for his right arm. He pushed me to my knees. “Good try, Gracie, but he needs to atone for his sins.”

  “He didn’t do anything!”

  “Shut the fuck up, child!”

  Although I felt like a child begging for the life of a friend to be spared, no child should ever have been in this situation. The worst part was knowing that no one would ever take me seriously enough to listen to the truth.

  “I’m not going to shut the fuck up, Dad. Ryan didn’t do anything!”

  He grabbed Ryan by the collar and brought their faces together. “So Gracie says you didn’t do anything,” he sighed, “so I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t stick your dirty Cupid cock into my little girl.”

  In that moment, I knew we had lost. Ryan said nothing, allowing my father to know the truth. He threw him to the ground, landing in his knees next to me. “Someone hold Gracie back.”

  “No!” I shouted, but my pleas meant nothing once the President made his demand. Three of the men that helped to raise me were now holding my face to the ground and my hands and feet behind my back.

  Dad dropped his pistol to the grass and pulled a Bowie knife from his belt. From what I understood, every kill of his was with that knife. That was how he got his road name. And now he was holding it to Ryan. His intentions were clear.

  He released the blade from its sheath and turned it over in his hand, admiring its curves.

  Unless Ryan had some sort of plan of escape, this was it.

  “Ryan, I love you.” I whispered. I needed him to know that all of it was real for me.

  My words brought a smile to his face, even though he had to know his death was imminent. “I love you too, Grace.”

  I saw the movement out of the corner of my eye, but had no ability to impede it. Time stopped as I watched my father plunge his knife into Ryan’s chest.

  “No!”

  Ryan’s scream matched my own, but neither had the force to stop the impact. He fell to his side, the handle still sticking out from his chest, and his eyes locked on mine.

  He didn’t blink.

  November 29, 1994

  J,

  No. By the date on your last letter, I can only assume that I have missed my window to stop you from this act of stupidity. Why did you not deliver it earlier? Why did you allow me to wait so long to read it? Why would you ever think that patching into a club would be the answer for us?

  I cannot wake up every morning and worry about you. The things they’ll make you do…it’s too much for me to endure. J, please get out. Believe me when I say I do not need the fear, the danger in my life. Yes, there was a time when I was lost. My parents were taken from me and the club gave me attention that I thought I’d never know again. I’ve made mistakes, but please don’t let my issues become your cross to bear.

  Any pulling away I’ve done has only been to protect you from this life. I have never wanted this for you, for us. Please, J, you must believe me. I can only pray to God that your letter was simply a cruel attempt to scare me into realizing I can’t live without you.

  But the truth is, I already know that. I’ve never been able to live without you. So please don’t put yourself in this danger for me, because I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve the love you have given me, but I will treasure it today, tomorrow, and past the light.

  You are my only,

  E

  Ryan- Present Day

  I felt the blade enter my body, searing my skin at its contact. The ground met my head and my gaze caught a frightened pair of blue eyes. Grace. Even covered in blood and bandages, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring at her. If her face was the final image I was given on this earth, I would make it last as long as possible. Don’t close your eyes, Ryan: stay with her.

  “Oh no, you’re not dying yet.” Brennan said.

  I was lifted to my knees again by the blade partially plunged into my chest.

  “Ryan!” Grace again. Everything was spinning, but I knew her voice.

  The pressure from the knife had faded, and I saw Patrick “Bowie” Brennan standing over me. Blood dripped onto my face. It was my own blood, from the knife that was just inside of me. He propelled his arm back, and I braced for another shock.

  I screamed. How could I not? There were now two knife holes perforating my chest, but he must have made sure to stay clear of my organs. He knew what he was doing: he was making me suffer as long as possible for my relationship with his daughter.

  I found Grace, and tried to smile. My lips refused to rise at my command, and she mirrored my expression. I was doing a pretty lousy job of protecting her, but I couldn’t fight back, not even with the gun still holding strong in my jacket. It was her father. If one of us lived through this battle, it should be him.

  Brennan pulled the knife from me again, laughing at the blood spilling from my chest. His arm retracted, and I was ready, ready to finally die.

  “Leave the kids out of this.”

  Pops? It took all my might to raise my head, but the reward was worth it. My brothers were standing behind Pops, ready for this fight. I wasn’t alone.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my old friend Jimmy Cassidy. Brothers,” Brennan looked to his men, all but the three still atop their bikes, “have you all met my wife’s former lover?”

  Shock froze my body, even in my crippled state. Was what he said true? As I pieced the puzzle together, it all started to make sense. My mother left because of Pop’s affair. Pops knew who Grace was just by looking at her. His warnings about her family were based on his own experiences. Pops told me that Patrick Brennan killed his wife because she was fooling around with a Cupid newbie. Pops must have been the newbie. The dates all lined up. Pops was J.

  “This is between you and me, Brennan. Let the kids go.”

  He gestured to Grace’s body, still pinned to the ground. “Do you see my daughter right now? All of my daughter? She’s made herself a part of this, and I intend to let her learn the lesson she brought upon herself.”

  In the midst of Brennan’s discourse, Pops knelt down beside me. “You okay, Ry?”

  “Sure,” I stuttered. “I’ll be fine.” I didn’t know if that was the truth, but I could breathe, and that was good enough for me.

  He whispered. “Get Grace, and get out of here.”

  I nodded, but didn’t know how he expected me to do that. Three Shadows were still holding her down.
r />   “Stop talking to your kid, and fight me.”

  Pops pulled out an Intratec 9mm and aimed it at his chest. “Okay Brennan, let’s do this.”

  Grace’s dad roared with laughter and gestured to his gun in the grass. “Not today, Jimmy. Today we fight with the blade.”

  He held his Bowie up for his opponent to see, “I’d give you this one, but your son’s blood is all over it.” With wicked laughter, he revealed another still in his belt. Pulling it free, he tossed it to Pops. The guys from both sides all took steps forward, producing knives of their own. I was torn. Should I help? Should I back Pops up? Or should I do as he said and get Grace the hell out of there?

  “Everyone fights!” Brennan commanded.

  His men followed their orders and hopped off their bikes, forming clumps behind their leaders. They left Grace and me alone on the ground. As soon as she was freed, she rushed to my side, pulling my shirt open and gaping at the wounds.

  “Ryan…” She looked as though she could not believe what was happening to us. I’m sure our expressions matched, because I knew I couldn’t believe it either.

  “It doesn’t hurt.” I quietly replied. “But we need to get out of here.” Pops was good with a blade, so my worries were not focused on him. Grace, on the other hand, I didn’t want her to see this fight.

  We helped each other to our feet and prepared to make our escape. I turned, losing sight of Grace for a brief second, when I felt her hand grasp at my shoulder. I swung around, but Brennan had his arm already around her ribs and his knife at her throat.

  April 15th, 1995

  E,

  I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written, but I knew any correspondence with you would have made me doubt my actions. I couldn’t let you talk me out of this; I made this decision for us.

  But I’ve survived. The only way I could live through the torment, the torture, was by assuring myself that you were at the end of my battle. It took me six months of absolute shit and pain and embarrassment to get my top rocker, but I am now an official patched in member of The Blood of Cupids MC. Next week I’ll get my tattoo. One of the guys does all of them. It’s actually really beautiful, and he’s very talented.

  While my writing might reflect the euphoria I feel now that my prospecting days are forever behind me, I need you to know that this life still isn’t my first choice. Every day of my plight I imagined what our life could be together. I thought of the two of us, living somewhere in the middle of nowhere. We would have two dogs, and they would love to drink out of the pond in our front yard. We’d cringe at each other, because sometimes the fish would go missing.

  I pictured Ryan and Gracie running around, fighting as children often do. They would pull each other’s hair and scratch at each other’s faces. We’d laugh, because we knew they could never truly hurt each other. I saw us sitting on the porch as we waved them off to school. I think Ryan would love Gracie. He would protect her. And he would absolutely beat up any guy who would hurt her. He would call her ‘my Grace’ and they would be best friends. They would be family.

  You and I would spend our days taking walks and laughing about how different our lives would have been if we hadn’t left Pennsylvania. You’d be the best teacher in the area, and all the kids would fight to be in your class. I would run a wood working shop out of our garage, and you would yell at me for always being covered in sawdust.

  This is the life I would build for us, and this is the life we would share. We would be so happy.

  I get my tattoo next Friday. That will seal my fate. Next Friday I will forever be a Cupid.

  But Cupid or not, I will love you today, tomorrow, and past the light.

  To our life, whichever it may be,

  J

  Grace- Present Day

  “How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from my fucking daughter? I’d rather her be dead than with you.”

  He whispered in my ear not to worry, that he would never hurt me. But after the day I’d just had—that I was still having—I couldn’t trust anything he said.

  And I was still coming to terms with the fact that the man standing in front of me, the man Ryan called his father, had loved my mother. Because of their relationship, she was taken from me. I hated him so much.

  Ryan threw his hands up in submission. “Don’t. Look, I won’t touch her. I’m just trying to get her away from this; keep her safe. That’s all.”

  “She’s not yours to keep safe, Cassidy. She’s mine. She’s been mine and she’ll be mine until I decide to give her to someone else. Can you get that through your thick skull?”

  “That’s fine,” Even in his weakened state, Ryan was trying to reason with him, calm him down, “but can you take the knife away from her throat?”

  He pulled me in tighter, the Bowie blade now pressing against my oozing bandage. I had enough.

  “Do it!” I shouted. It may have been pathetic, but at that point, I had no reason to keep living. My father was holding a knife to my throat, the man I loved was stabbed, and my nightmares were sure to only get worse. “Please,” I cried, “just kill me.”

  Ryan stared at me, shaking his head. When he had my full attention, he mouthed to me, barely allowing breath to escape his lips. “You’re stronger than this. We’re stronger than this.” He was pleading, begging me to keep holding on.

  What was wrong with me? Patrick Brennan didn’t own me. He couldn’t tell me what to do forever. No matter how terrible my situation had become, I would be able to change it. I had that power. Allowing myself to die wouldn’t be the answer.

  I pulled together the strength that I had found in Ryan’s words and elbowed my father in the stomach. His resounding grunt started the war, and I fell to the ground, unnoticed.

  I crawled to Ryan, fighting not to be buried under a sea of charging legs. While weak, he still was able to throw his arms around me. We kept moving, finding safety from the fight just a few feet away. We sat silent, holding each other. We were just two kids, watching our families fight to the death.

  “Ryan, did we do this?” I cracked, my throat soar from be strangled.

  “No Grace, this isn’t about us.”

  We watched our brothers battle their enemies, everyone certain their cause was stronger than the opposing. I wanted to scream. I wanted it all to stop. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up tomorrow.

  But the dream world wasn’t my reality. This standoff, this knife fight, these men; they were my truth. This man with his arm around me, suddenly struggling to breathe, he was my existence.

  I gasped as I watched a knife make contact. Then another. How was I sitting there, not doing anything? Where had we gone wrong? Ryan held me tighter as we witnessed our brothers’ bloody struggle.

  “Grace,” Ryan turned to me, “I can’t sit back anymore. That is my family up there.”

  “No, no, no. Not you. No, we’re leaving. Ryan, this isn’t our life anymore.” I threw words into the air. I didn’t know what I was saying, but I knew he couldn’t fight.

  He pushed my hair from my eyes, studying my face. “If this was all I had, it was more than I could ever have asked for.”

  Ryan took a stunted breath and kissed me. Neither of us let go, knowing that it could be the last time our bodies, our souls touched. I wanted more of him, but every movement reminded me of the physical pain I was suffering. I had no idea how Ryan was still alive, let alone willing to join his brothers in combat. He stood, our lips still refusing to separate. Finally he pulled away, looking in my eyes one last time. Neither of us said anything. We simply stared at each other. It was enough.

  Ryan ran into the crowd, toward his father. How was I supposed to watch this?

  I tried to turn away, but my father’s voice drew me back. He was holding Jimmy Cassidy down, completely ready to jam his knife into his chest.

  I screamed, but the roaring fight muted my muffled cries. Just as I thought Ryan’s father had taken his last breath, I watched as the feared “Bowie” B
rennan dropped his knife. The two men stared at each other.

  “Why Cassidy?” Dad whispered. “Why?”

  “Why did I love Emily? Is that what you’re asking me?”

  He shook his head. “No. I know why you loved her. Everyone loved her. I’m asking you why you killed her.”

  Their speech quieted as their conversation deepened.

  “You killed her.”

  “I would never. She was my wife, Grace’s mother.”

  “She was the love of my life. When she died, my world stopped.”

  “You didn’t…”

  “No.”

  “If you didn’t…” He couldn’t finish his thought, “Who?”

  “I did.” Sean said. It was as if he had been waiting for that perfect moment. And then, not willing to waste another perfect moment, he picked up my father’s knife and jammed it into his lower back. Dad buckled to the ground, as he twisted my father’s own weapon further into his spine. The entire fight stopped.

  Each person was fixated on a fallen Patrick Brennan. I couldn’t move. No matter the monster he had turned into, that man was my father. “No!” I shouted above the silence. I picked up my withering body and ran, as fast as I could, to the spot where my father lay.

  “Dad, Dad, look at me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gracie. I should’ve been better.”

  “You’re going to be okay. I promise, you’ll be okay.” I found my voice. “Someone call an ambulance now!”

  The Walking Shadows all simultaneously pulled out their phones and began to dial. I held my father’s hand, willing him to survive this attack.

  “This is it Baby, and that’s a good thing.”

  “Dad stop!” I cried.

  “No,” he took my hand, “you’re going to be better off without me. I know that.” His stare suddenly turned from serenity to fear. “Grace, look out.”