by Jc Emery
“Stop your crying,” she screams at Darren, who has tears streaming down his face. She hits him across the face again, this time on the other side. “Take it like a man. You’re such a big, strong man, aren’t you? Fucking take it!
“You made me feel like trash. You convinced me my family didn’t want me and that they weren’t protecting me. So fuck you and your fucking tears,” she snaps and swings at him again, this time at his side.
“But you fucked up,” she says lowly, leaning over to get in his face. “You think this is bad? You fucked with the wrong bitch, because baby, my man is going to end you. You hurt what’s his, and there’s only one way you can pay for it.” She rights herself and brings the wrench down like she’s swinging a fucking golf club and slams it into his dick. He folds in on himself, screaming and crying with such force that Diesel and Grady and Jeremy all lose a grip on him as he hits the concrete. She backs away and strides over to me. Her face is blank as she hands me the wrench and then leaves the room and turns down the hall to my bedroom.
“Holy shit,” Jeremy says, breathing heavy as he helps Diesel and Grady lift Darren up. The guy’s sobbing, and his mouth is bloody. “I am never giving her attitude again.”
My brothers laugh and smile down at Darren, who’s eyeing the room, his left moving slower than his right. With each step I take that brings me closer to him, my body relaxes just a little bit more. I got shit to deal with, but seeing Nic fuck him up really helped me focus my energy. I crouch down in front of him and signal to Wyatt for the screwdriver, which he produces quickly. I pop it up in the air a few times and stay still enough that Darren can follow my moves, even though it’s clearly a struggle.
“Your pussy daddy should have taught you how to be a man, but since he didn’t, I will. I didn’t even have a daddy, but even I know you don’t beat on women. See, tonight? Found out I’m gonna be a daddy. Findin’ out I’m gonna have a kid puts me in a special place. Makes me want to right all the wrongs in the world. Lucky for you.” I stand to my full height and lay a kick in his abdomen, then another one, and another. Diesel and Grady struggle to keep him up as his body grows limp and his heavy breathing turns into desperate gasps. I shove the screwdriver in his face, making sure he sees it clearly.
“This screwdriver? Well, I’m not gonna shove my dick in your ass, now am I? You see, you took something precious from my woman—you invaded her body—and she won’t ever get that back. Do you believe in an eye for an eye? Because I do,” I growl and then grab him by the throat and toss him onto the concrete, stomach first.
When we’re done, he’s barely breathing. A few of his fingers on his right hand twitch, but otherwise his entire body is limp. Wyatt takes the wrench and screwdriver to the shop to melt them down with the oxygen acetylene torch. Diesel gets to work covering the concrete in bleach, and I have Jeremy help me drag Darren’s bloody, broken body into the van.
“Where ya dumpin’ him?” Grady asks with his cell in his hands.
“Don’t know,” I say. “I’ll figure it out.” Grady nods and walks away with his phone to his ear. In the distance, I can hear him bitching at Layla about something or other, and he rushes off to his bike and peels out. It isn’t until I’m in the passenger side of the van with Jeremy driving that I figure out where his body needs to go.
Five minutes later, Jeremy cuts the lights as we pull up to the Jennings residence. Darren’s parents’ house is on the outskirts of town, with a great view of the ocean and some major real estate. The house itself is in perfect condition, and the lawn is obviously professionally landscaped. Everything about it is quiet, and wealthy, and peaceful. Everything, with the exception of the bloody body of their son that I toss in their driveway.
xxx
Days later, and Jeremy’s kept true to his word that he wouldn’t say a thing about what we did. The club’s figured it out by, now and they’re pissed off all right, but we got bigger shit to worry about. Still, when the local news station reports on the well-being of the poor comatose beating victim, Darren Jennings, and the search for his attacker, both Nic and Jeremy watch until the segment’s done. She knows I did it, but she won’t ask. Since that night, she’s been a little softer and a little less irritable, and being able to give her that matters to me.
“You ready, baby?” she asks as she shoves the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Dressed in black jeans and a black and gray top with her black leather boots on, she’s damn fuckable.
“Think Chief would mind if we skipped out?” I ask, letting my eyes slide over her frame.
“On his funeral?” she asks. Her eyes are narrowed, and she shakes her head while giving me a look like I’m the stupidest mother fucker on the planet.
“Yeah,” I say. She knows I wouldn’t skip out on laying a brother to rest, but she’s so playful now, and I like playful Nic. Still, I ain’t letting her in the garage near my wrenches.
“Yes. He absolutely would mind,” she says. “Put your dick away for once.”
Standing from the table and walking over to her, I place my hands on her sides and press my half hard dick into her stomach.
“I don’t like your last name,” I say. “It’s confusing.” She stares up at me, only partially confused. She gets where I’m going with this. She’s just in denial about it right now. “Is it pronounced ‘Wee-len’ or ‘Whay-len’?”
“And your last name’s any better? Do you not remember what they called you in high school? Joshua Will-Suck-Cocks ring any bells?”
I grin down at her, loving that she’s playing along.
“I remember who started that,” I say and narrow my eyes at her playfully. She reaches up and tugs on my beard with a huge smile on her face.
“You trying to say you want to make me an honest woman?” she asks on her tip toes.
“I don’t know about honest,” I say to tease her. She scrunches her nose up and gives my beard a pull, making my dick stand at attention. She knows damn well how that shit gets me going.
“I don’t know how I like the name Nicole Wilcox,” she says and licks her lips.
“How about Nicole Will-Suck-Cocks, because baby you gotta know, having had it once, I’m gonna need that on the regular now,” I say and lean in, devouring her mouth with my own. She bucks her pelvis against mine, and just when things are getting hot, a throat clears from the hallway.
We both turn and look at Jeremy, who is wearing all black and his prospect vest that Jim gave to him the day after the shit with Darren. Almost took it back after finding out where we left Darren, but Jim knows that wasn’t on Jeremy—that was on me.
“Okay, cool,” Jeremy says with a smile on his face. “Making me an uncle, and a brother-in-law, and one day—a brother,” he says as he pinches the leather of his cut between his fingers. “Now how about getting your own place?”
I pull away from Nic, proudly adjust my dick, and smirk at the stupid punk.
“We already got our own place,” I say and clasp him on the shoulder, then stride out to the car. I call behind me with a chuckle, “You’re the one who needs to find his own place.”
My good mood falls instantly when I see the plastic hospital band that’s tied around the windshield wiper. I check the door to find that neither Jeremy nor Nic have made it outside yet, and pull the band off the wiper blade and give it a good look. On the band, there’s a bunch of information printed from patient’s chart number to the date of admittance, and even special instructions about allergies. But it’s the name, in bold print, that reads JENNINGS, DARREN that leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Playful laughter sounds from the doorway, and Nic comes out first, then Jeremy. She’s too happy and in too good of a place to know about this, so I shove the bracelet into my pocket and climb into the car with my woman and the kid who will one day be my brother. And we take off to say goodbye to an old friend.
Epilogue
Nic
Sometimes I feel it in my bones—Duke loving me. Sometimes I don't feel anything but she
er terror at the thought that he might be telling me the truth. Because when you love and you are loved by someone else, you have something to lose. And way too many times in my life have I lost things I've held dear to my heart. But things are looking up. I tell myself that every day, because the gifts I've been given are outweighing that which has been taken from me. And it's because of him.
I turn over on my side and look down at the most precious thing in my life—my daughter. She's covered in a pile of blankets, nestled beneath the muted pinks and creams. And even among a sea of pretty, she stands out. She’s gorgeous. Robin is close to nine months old now. She grows so much every day, but we’re often so busy I wonder if we’re missing some of it. And I don’t want to miss a single second. She’s mobile and chatty and so damn opinionated already. I love it.
Every moment I spend with her, the less I understand my own mother’s bailing on me and Jeremy. Even when my baby grows up and she’s all mouth and sass and her daddy’s piercing blue eyes, I’m going to love her. And I’m not alone.
“Wanna go see Daddy?” I ask her. She kicks her chubby little legs out, makes a gurgling sound that I swear is an excited affirmative, and smiles up at me with the cutest, toothless grin on the planet.
“Da,” s'he says. I know she’s saying Daddy in her own little way, but I like to pretend she’s saying “duh,” because that’s just funnier.
“I love you so much I think I’m gonna make myself sick,” I say as I scoop her up and walk her out of the room and into the living room and try unsuccessfully to ignore the dull ache from my right hip. The new tattoo on my hip is a gift for Duke. After he got the tattoo on his lower left arm, I knew I had to get something for him, too. On the inside of his wrist is a tattoo of my signature, and on the other side is the word forgiven. Once I told him that everything that’s in the past is done and gone, he wanted to commemorate it in a very permanent way.
Robin wiggles in my arms and reaches out to pull at my hair. I remember back in the day when her pulling my hair would hurt, but she does it so often now that I barely notice it. Even in her sleep she pulls at my hair or at Duke’s beard. It’s our fault, I suppose. Neither of us is very good at making her sleep in her crib in her own room. Duke tries to make up crap, saying that she screams like a banshee when he leaves her in there—which is true—he just also refuses to acknowledge the fact that if he left her in there long enough, she’d eventually quiet down and get used to it. But he doesn’t like to hear her scream anymore than I do.
I load her up into her car seat inside my Corolla and then climb into the driver’s seat. She runs almost like a dream now that Duke’s fixed her up for me. Pulling away from the house, I admire the fresh coat of yellow paint that’s on the exterior and the way the lawn is cut and the edges are trimmed. The outside of the house looks a lot better now, and the people on the inside are a lot better now, too. Only, I try not to tell Duke that. He likes to rub it in my face.
Robin’s been to the clubhouse a few times before, but it’s usually smoky inside and no place for a baby. But today it’s mostly clean, family fun. Barbara’s bringing Stephen and Izzy by for a rare appearance. The only member she really keeps in touch with these days is Grady, and that’s by virtue of Elle. We’re still her family, but she needs space. I can respect that. Mary and Fish are bringing their kid by, and Grady’s supposed to have his daughter, Cheyenne, over as well. Duke said he was going to see about getting Grady to chill long enough for Ryan to bring Alex by, even though she’s on the fence about showing up. I know she won’t let me down, because I don’t let her down. And even if the club never accepts her, she’s my family just as much as the club is my family. Today’s kind of a big day for my family.
Today’s the day they voted me in.
It’s a big deal to be voted in. It means I’m officially Duke’s Old Lady. It means the club considers me one of their own. I don’t sit in on Church, I don’t know—officially—club business, and I don’t vote in on their business dealings. But I’m one of them in a way that matters just the same. My mother was never voted in because the club never got a good feel for her, which is not surprising. When she left my dad, that was it. She was gone. I’ve heard rumors that she called the club for help a few years after she left. But she wasn’t voted in, so she wasn’t family. Even though my dad couldn’t be here, he’s sent us his best. Duke makes sure Jeremy and I see him regularly now, and every time I visit, I end up spending half the time telling Dad about how Robin’s growing. He says word around the yard at San Quentin is that The Butcher is whipped by a seventeen-pound baby, and he can’t wait to meet her when he gets out. We still don’t have any realistic idea of when that’ll be though, because he incurred another infraction for going off on a guy over something or other.
When I pull through the gates, the first thing I see is Jeremy. He’s standing by my usual parking space with his prospect cut on, and he gives me a chin lift as way of greeting. I used to hate seeing him in that cut, but Dad’s calmed me down about it. If the club’s good enough for Duke, then it’s good enough for Jeremy. Still, the longer he spends with the club, the bigger an asshole he becomes. And he was already half past being a prick back then.
I park the car and climb out. I don’t even bother grabbing Robin, as Jeremy already has her out of her car seat and is walking her to the clubhouse while trying to teach her how to punch. I don’t say much about it because he has fun with her, but damn, I wish he’d stop trying to perfect her right hook. Her dexterity is getting pretty good, and she’s popped Duke in the face a few times while he’s been asleep
Following behind, I finally reach the door to the clubhouse. When I open it up, loud screams erupt, and I’m stunned from the shock of it all. I knew they were here, but I didn’t know they’d start screaming like cave people the moment they saw me. Robin breaks out into a high-pitched scream that rips me apart. I blink back the surprise and go for her, but I’m too late.
Duke strides right up to Jeremy and takes her out of his arms. In a few seconds, she’s quiet and snuggled into his neck, pulling on his beard. Seeing him with her makes me feel like such an idiot for ever doubting that he’d want her. Even though we didn’t know her smile back then, or her laugh, we knew her. She’s our baby, and she’s precious in a way nothing else is.
As Diesel and Jim, and even Bear, descend upon me, giving me hugs and offering congratulations, I smile and force myself to stop paying attention to my Old Man as he pretends to eat Robin’s tiny fist. Predictably enough, she pops him as hard as she can in his mouth for his effort. The guys ask to see the tattoo—the new one of the Nordic warrior that’s the Forsaken symbol that I have on my right shoulder—so I oblige and pull my bra strap down. That’s why we’re here, after all. We’re here to celebrate as a family. And even though everything is hectic and upside down. Even though we’re still finding our footing after the Darren situation, and even though Mancuso is still a threat, for this single afternoon we’re whole, and we’re happy, and we’re in a good place. Even Grady seems a lot more chill than he used to be. I thank Elle for that.
When I finally make my way through the crowd, I cozy up to Duke and Robin. He wraps his free arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to him. With a kiss to my head and a squeeze to my shoulders he leans down and says, “I want to fuck my Old Lady.”
Across the room, Alex stands with Ryan and Ruby. I wave her over, and when she approaches, Duke hands Robin off to her. Lately the kid’s been saying Ub, even though we think she’s trying to say Cub. It’s cute and all, but we don’t waste time as we tear off down the hallway to Duke’s room. Back when I was pregnant, he didn’t want to have sex in here. He said it wasn’t a place for me anymore. But now that we have a kid, we take it when and where we can—assuming we haven’t passed out from exhaustion.
In the small, impersonal space, we undress one another in silence. It isn’t until he gets to my jeans and discovers the plastic covering over my latest tattoo that he pauses and raises an eyebro
w at me, saying, “And what is this?”
I shrug and move my arms so he can inspect for himself. He peels away the wrapping to find the tattoo on my hipbone. It’s in a fine, beautiful script, with his and Robin’s names above and below it, that reads THIS IS FOREVER.
“No spinning,” he whispers, looking up at me.
Softly, I run my fingers through his hair and say, “No spinning.”
The End
Rev (Bayonet Scars, No. 3)
EVERYONE BELONGS SOMEWHERE. EVEN THE MISFITS.
With the looming threat from the Mancuso Crime Family, the Forsaken Motorcycle Club is preparing for a war that could destroy them. Grady, the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms, knows that love makes you weak, and he has zero interest in adding to his liabilities– especially now. He’s already got his teenage daughter who keeps him on his toes and a beef within the club that could fracture his relationship with a fellow brother for good.
For Holly Mercer, her life is finally getting on track and the last thing she wants is trouble from her hometown’s resident outlaws. Keeping her nose clean is easier said than done, when suddenly she finds herself embroiled in club business. Holly might like the idea of being with a real-life bad boy, but even being in the same room with tough-as-nails Grady flusters her.
When Holly inadvertently finds herself on Mancuso’s radar, she has two choices: trust that Grady will protect her, or continue to refuse the club’s help. Both roads are dangerous, but only one has the chance to damage her beyond repair.
