by April Lust
She had never left my head, not for a minute. Every once in a while I’d make a decision and wonder what she would think of it. Or I would beat a guy until he was practically dead, and her face would come into my mind. I would know she’d hate me for doing it, and I’d hate myself. It wasn’t easy, carrying her around like that. It had gotten to the point where I had to force myself to try to forget her, or else I would hesitate at the wrong time and get myself killed.
That was when the other women came in. Lots of them. Tons of them. I knew how to get them into my bed—it was never a challenge. The challenge was keeping them away once they got a taste of me. I didn’t want anything more than fun. I had already seen where commitment got me.
Tori. She was still beautiful. I understood why she looked so old and tired. She was scared shitless—it would do that to a person, I guessed. I wanted to be the one to help her. I wanted to make it all go away, so she could go back to being the girl I used to know. Back then, she was fun to be around, laughing, joking. All the guys had loved her, treated her like a little sister. When she left, it was like she’d left them, too.
I wished I had thought to tell Daniel to keep it to himself about her. I didn’t think he’d run his mouth, but I couldn’t be sure if he was drunk. I didn’t want the rest of them to know she popped up. Not until I knew for sure how deep the shit she was in actually ran.
Once I did, I would make the people who’d try to hurt her pay for what they did.
Chapter Six
Tori
I’d gotten out just in time. Another minute like that and I would’ve been on the floor, stark naked, possibly straddling him. The moment I stepped foot into the elevator, I leaned against the wall, fanning myself. Trying desperately to regain some hold over myself, my body. It had almost gotten away from me. I couldn’t afford to go down that path with him again, ever again.
In the cab, my thoughts were a mess, torn between elation over seeing him again—I’d truly never thought I would—and panic over him wanting to find a way back into my life. I couldn’t let that happen. There was too much at stake. I wasn’t that stupid, starry-eyed kid anymore. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since I was sixteen. Since I was an eighteen-year-old bride. I would never be that girl again.
I couldn’t stop my heart from racing when he pulled me to him. I couldn’t keep my body from responding hungrily to his nearness, to the promise of what he held in store for me. I remembered too well what he used to do to me. My body would scream for him, just like I screamed his name when he took me. Had it been so long? Sometimes it felt like only a few minutes—the way it felt in the cab, when I finally got control of myself.
The thing was, I hadn’t felt so alive in years. I had forgotten what it was like to feel that way, slowly sliding into a sort of numbness. It was like I’d forgotten I was a woman, one who used to love what he did to me. It had been easier to pretend that part of me didn’t exist, so I wouldn’t long for him as much. Self-preservation, really.
When I saw him, when he touched me, everything came flooding back. I touched my wrist, circling it with one hand the way he had. It was like my skin burned where he’d touched it—a trick of my overheated brain, of course, but no less real to me.
Damn it. Damn him. What was I supposed to do? Move? Like that was possible. I had to do something, though. Anything to keep me and my boy safe.
The cab swung a right, reaching my block. My stomach clenched, twisting in knots as I looked around for anybody who seemed the least bit threatening. Would there be another goon waiting for me? Maybe the same one, now even more determined to hurt me after the beating Eli had given him? I couldn’t help smiling to myself at the memory. He still had it, no doubt. There was a certain gratification in knowing he’d beaten a man for me—even if he didn’t know it was me at the time.
I paid the driver, then sprinted from the car up the steps of my brownstone. It used to be a grand townhouse for some rich family—many of the buildings up and down the block were. Those days were long past, and they’d all be converted to multi-family residences. They’d fallen into disrepair, too, though they weren’t in such bad shape as others not far away. I’d picked the best I could from the limited resources available at the time.
“Mama!” My eyes widened in surprise when I found George waiting for me at Carla’s.
“I thought you said you were putting him to bed?” I asked, giving my son a hug. I looked at her from over his shoulder.
“I tried.” She shrugged, red curls bouncing on her shoulders. “He was determined he wait for you.”
“You’re lucky it’s Friday night, young man, or you’d be one sorry little boy in the morning when you had to wake up for school.” I gave him a fierce hug—so fierce he groaned, trying to wriggle out from my arms.
“Mama, you’re squishing me.” He giggled, pulling away.
“Was I, sweetheart? I’m sorry. Why don’t we all go up to our place? You need to be in bed.” I glanced at Carla. “And I need to have a talk with Carla.”
She looked concerned. So did George. “Uh-oh. I know what that means.”
I had to smile, looking down at him. “You know what that means? What’s it mean, then?”
“When you say we have to have a talk, it means I’m in trouble.”
I chuckled. “That’s not it, at all. Carla’s not in any trouble. I just have to talk about something with her, smarty pants.” I playfully swatted his bottom, then the three of us charged up the stairs to our apartment.
Carla brought a bottle of wine with her—she knew I needed reinforcement—and poured for us while I oversaw George getting ready for bed.
“Mama? Is everything okay?” I was looking out the window, chewing the inside of my mouth.
“Huh?”
“Is everything okay? You look worried. Your voice sounds worried, too.”
I turned to him with a grin. “How do you know what a voice sounds like when it’s worried, young man?”
“You always get all frowny when you’re worried. There’s these lines in your forehead, too.” He traced worry lines across his own smooth, unblemished forehead.
“Thanks,” I said drily. “You’re just full of compliments tonight.”
“What’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me?”
“I don’t have anything to tell you because there’s nothing to tell. Everything’s just as good as it can be.” I turned my attention to him, focusing on making him believe I was happy and positive, while my insides were quaking and my head pounded with horrible possibilities. When would they come back for me? How would they come back? Would George be nearby next time?
I looked at him, all serious in his dinosaur pajamas. I was convinced those darned things would disintegrate in the laundry one day, I’d washed them so many times. There was nothing like a favorite outfit for a kid, though. George always swore he slept the best when he wore his best pajamas. How could I argue with logic like that?
I kissed him goodnight, sweeping the golden hair back from his forehead with my hand. He was so little, so perfect in every way. He looked up at me from his pillow, wide, sapphire eyes looking at me with their characteristic frankness.
“Are you sure you’re okay, mama? I’m going to worry about you.”
I shook my head. “No, don’t do that. If you do, you’ll get lines in your forehead like I do.” I smiled, tickling him until he giggled. “Honey, that’s what parents do,” I said, once he calmed down. “We worry so our babies won’t have to worry. And yeah, there are some grown-up things going on for me right now, but it’s nothing you need to think about. I mean it. Have sweet dreams, and we’ll do something fun tomorrow. Maybe we’ll order dinner in, and play video games.”
He beamed. “But you don’t like my video games, Mama.”
“Yeah, well, I suddenly love them.” I gave him a quick kiss before he could ask any more questions or call me out for the terrible liar I was, then left the room with another blown kiss through the semi-open door
.
It was with a heavy sigh that I sank into my sofa. Carla handed me the wine without asking whether I wanted it. I took a long gulp.
“What happened to the groceries you were supposed to be picking up? And who’s this friend of yours? Since when do you run off with a friend to catch up?”
I looked at her, my head resting against the cushions, and I realized what an imposition it was for her that I’d disappeared like that. “I’m sorry, sweetie. You probably had plans tonight.”
“No, no, it’s not that. I’m worried about you. This is all out of character. What gives?”
I sighed heavily, shifting positions until I faced her. “I didn’t want to tell you about this, because I didn’t want to worry you. I’m in deep with this Joe Green guy.”
She gasped, green eyes going perfectly round. “Oh, jeez, Tori. For five thousand?”
“Well, I missed last week’s payment and this week’s. So it’s a lot more than that, now.”
“Holy crap. What happened? Did somebody hurt you?”
I shook my head, swirling the rich, red wine in my glass. “No. He wanted to, though. He stopped me half a block away from here, threatening me. He almost hit me. He ruined the groceries, too, so that money went down the drain. It was the scariest thing I’ve been through in a long time.”
“Oh, no. Sweetie. I’m so scared for you.” I looked up to find her chin quivering.
“It’s okay. I was okay. Somebody came in at the last second and pulled him away from me.”
“You’re not serious. Guy or girl?”
“Guy. A big guy, too.”
“Oh, my gosh. Was he hot?”
“Carla…”
“Was he? Come on. This is the greatest set-up in the history of set-ups. You’re in danger, right? The damsel in distress. He sweeps in to rescue you from the bad guy. So? Was he hot?”
I sighed, teeth grazing my bottom lip in remembrance of our kiss. “He’s extremely hot.”
“Oh, my gosh!” She giggled, kicking her legs, bouncing up and down on the sofa. Even in my mixed-up state of mind, I had to laugh at her enthusiasm.
“Here’s the best part. Get ready for it,” I added, once she’d quieted down. “I know him.”
“You do? Oh, so he’s the friend you were catching up with? Whoa, what are the odds of something like that happening?” She beamed, shaking her head in amazement. Then, “Wait. You don’t have any hot male friends. I would know about it if you did.”
“I hadn’t seen this one in a long time. Since before I met you. Since before I ever moved in here, actually.”
“And to think, this brought you back together. That is so cool!” She grinned, the threat of loan sharks forgotten in the face of Fate. “So, who is he? What’s he do?”
“He’s my ex-husband. The leader of the Vipers motorcycle club.”
She nearly spat red wine halfway across my living room. I’d known that would be her reaction, and I gave her time to get herself together while I sipped my wine and tried not to look too smug. Her face was priceless.
“Your ex-husband? I didn’t even know you were married! Wait…” Her eyes moved down the hall, toward George’s room. “Is he…?”
“George’s father? Yes.” My voice was low, nearly a whisper. God, I hadn’t said those words aloud in years. George’s father. He did have a father out there. Much closer than I had ever anticipated.
“Whoa, Tori. No wonder you said there was catching up to do. I can’t believe this. It’s all so much.” She looked stricken, like all of it was happening directly to her. I would’ve laughed if it all hadn’t been so tragic. What a mixed-up set of circumstances, all the way around.
“It’s a lot, I know. So the creep dragged me to his apartment, wanting to have it out with me. I didn’t exactly leave under the best circumstances. We hadn’t seen each other since before I walked out on him.”
“And he never did anything about his son? He’s never given you a single dime in child support, the ass.” I looked at her, silent, waiting for her to make the connection on her own. I saw light dawn in her eyes. “He doesn’t know, does he?”
I shook my head. “No way he’d let me go if he knew I was pregnant.”
“Tori, this is terrible. You never told him?”
“I feel like you’re judging me right now,” I said, my voice sharp.
She looked sheepish. “I didn’t mean to sound that way. I’m sorry. I know you had your reasons for not tell him about the baby.”
“How could I? You don’t know what it was like back then.” I shuddered at the memory. Seeing him walk into the house, covered in another man’s blood. He was drunk, too, and had ridden his bike from the clubhouse. He could’ve killed somebody else on the road, for all I knew. I’d felt horror, shock. Grief. I was going to tell him that night about the baby, too. I realized when I saw him what a terrible idea it was for him ever to know.
“I couldn’t expose my child to a life like that. I couldn’t raise him in that world. I was only half-used to it myself, you know? I would never quite get over the idea that whenever he went out, my husband might hurt somebody. Might kill somebody. The club was so violent back then—I can only imagine it got worse in the years after that. I’m surprised he survived.”
“Was he the leader back then?”
I shook my head. “I only know he is now. The president patch is on his kutte. I didn’t say anything about it, so I don’t know how long he’s been the head of the club.”
“Jeez. That’s so much to deal with at one time. I mean, a baby is one thing, leaving your husband is another thing. You had to do it all at once.”
I nodded. “I’m no hero,” I reminded her. “I felt like the world’s biggest bitch when I left. I knew it would hurt him—no matter what he did, he had this childlike belief that it would be all right as long as we were together. A man like that. Somebody capable of the violence he inflicted on others. He had that hope in his heart, all the time.”
“It sounds sweet,” she murmured.
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” I accused, smirking. “But, you’re right. It was sweet. He was sweet. He was capable of that, too, just as much as the violence. You’d never think it to look at him, or the men he ran around with. A bunch of greasy, foul-mouthed criminals. They had hearts of gold, though. They treated me like a kid sister, protected me from their world. It wasn’t their fault, either. Axel—he was president back then—led them to the violence. He wasn’t a nice man. He acted like their father, but exposed them to all of that. I’m a mother. I know how wrong that is.”
“Shoot, I’m not a mother, and even I know how wrong that is.” Carla shook her head. “So you ran off.”
“Yep. Wrote a letter, took off my ring and left with a bag full of my stuff. I found a cheap motel, stayed there for a few days until I could get a lease on an apartment. I’ve been here ever since. Around six months later, I sent the divorce papers from my lawyer’s office.”
“How far along were you when you left?”
“Three months. Just enough for him not to notice, you know? I was going to tell him that last night, too. It was a big plan I’d put together. We were a little strained at the time. Things weren’t going well—stress in the club, stress between us. I thought, this is great, I’ll tell him about the baby and it’ll be a new beginning for us.” I shuddered. “He came home bloody. He’d beaten a man, probably to death. I don’t see how it could’ve gone any other way, though he wouldn’t tell me even when I demanded he do so. He was drunk, didn’t see what the big deal was. I remember the way he swayed back and forth in front of me. I wondered how he’d even made it home alive, the condition he was in. That was when I made the decision to leave.”
“Whoa. That was seriously brave of you.”
“Brave?” I laughed harshly. “That’s the first time I’ve heard myself described as brave.”
“You should get used to it,” she said firmly. “Because you were brave. Leaving like that? All to protect you
r son? What would you call it?”
“Cowardly. I was a coward. I ran away instead of facing the problem.”
“He wouldn’t have let you go, I bet. Not when there was a baby involved.”
I nodded slowly. “You’re right. He wouldn’t have. And he can’t know about him now. I don’t want him to be a part of my life, of our lives.” I stared intensely at Carla. “I don’t want him anymore.”
“Who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself?”
I shook my head. “Don’t do that.”
