In love and ruins

by Rachael Tonks

  “You?” He points his huge finger at me. “You think you’ll be the next Savage to rule us motherfuckers?” He holds up his hands, gesturing toward the clubhouse. Slowly dipping his head, he moves his face until it stops right in front of me. “Your father knows you’re not fit enough to run this. Hell, you’re no son of his. You’re just a whore’s mistake. Should never have been any more than a stain on the fucking mattress.”

  The familiar feeling of anger swells inside me. It’s the anger deep within that has driven me to kill, to do things I’m ashamed of. Only, this time it bubbles ferociously, and it’s all aimed at this sick fucker standing in front of me. Leaning forward, I charge toward him, my arms wrapping around his waist as I take him down to the ground. I’m on him before I know what to do. I rear back my already sore, clenched fist, punching him over and over, connecting with his nose. But it doesn’t last. Hands grab my shoulders, pulling me off him before I can really do the damage my anger wants to execute.

  “You little cunt,” he spits out, rolling on to all fours before pushing to his feet. “Bad move. Real bad fucking move, pussy.” He spits his abuse at me while the guys behind me hold back my arms tightly. He swipes the back of his hand against his nose, glancing down at the blood staining his hand.

  Forcing me over to the fence that runs the perimeter of the yard, they thrust me against it.

  “You need to learn respect,” Silver growls as his fist connects with my stomach, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I lurch forward, my arm covering where he made the connection. Silencing the pain and all of my emotion, I don’t let a sound slip from my mouth. I wouldn’t let them know I’m hurting, at least not verbally. I force myself upward again, regaining my earlier posture. My brows furrow as I give them a look of disgust. Although I know they’re only following orders, it seems these cocksuckers are enjoying every fucking minute of this.

  “Get him secured,” Silver instructs, throwing a loop of rope toward Davo. He works quickly to secure my arms to the poles of the fence. Both arms are at full stretch, and there is nothing I can do to fight them. Four on one is no good without a weapon. And even with a weapon, killing his men, my wonderful father’s, would mean one thing.

  Death.

  And I’m not giving that fucker the satisfaction.

  Shackled to the fence, I stand my ground. Without fear in my eye, I glare at the four men standing in front of me.

  “So… darts it is.” He laughs, digging into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of playing darts. You know, like the ones you fire at a dart board. Only, tonight, I’m the board.

  “Step back, step back,” he instructs with a wave of his arm. “Roach,” he says, pausing for a second. “No fucking cheating.”

  They all laugh raucously. But most of all, it’s clear that Silver is getting a kick out of this. The look of achievement and excitement glimmers in his eyes, even in the dark. Twirling the dart slowly between his finger and thumb, he stills, holding his arm ready to take his shot.

  “Come on, fucker,” I scream, goading him to take his shot.

  “Oh, don’t you worry, Nate. Imma take my shot alright.” Flicking out his wrist, I hold my breath, waiting for it to make a connection. My eyes dart down to my shoulder as I feel the tip of the dart pierce my skin. Only, this pain is nothing for me. I get a kick out of tattoos. A little prick to my skin is nothing.

  “Come on, man. This don’t seem right,” Matteo says, but Silver ignores him, his laugh echoing through the yard.

  “I’m just warming up,” Silver replies, stretching his neck from side to side like he’s warming up for the fight of his life. Straightening, he stills again, pulling back his wrist and taking another shot. This time, the dart lands in my stomach, causing me to jolt back a little.

  “Fuck, Silver,” Roach says, slapping him heavily on the back. “Stop toying with him and let’s get this over and done with.”

  “Last one,” Silver replies, holding the dart in front of the guys before spinning on the spot and throwing it one last time. The dart spears toward me, cutting into the skin on my neck and I hold back the yelp.

  “Yes,” Silver cheers. “Saved the best for last,” he replies with a sound of achievement in his tone. But I don’t falter. I stand there, glaring at them as they play their stupid little games. Jeering and laughter fills my senses, but hatred pumps the blood around my body.

  Silver will regret this.

  Maybe not today.

  But one day.

  I will make him pay.

  I’ll mark his cards and have my revenge.

  Their loud voices lower to whispers and I tilt my head, listening to get an idea of what they are plotting. Only I can’t hear anything. Grass crunches under the feet of all four men as they move toward me. Stopping just in front of me, Silver's hand lunges forward, snapping the three darts embedded in my skin.

  “I couldn’t help but notice you never flinched once, Nate.”

  With a slight shrug, I shake my head, keeping my mouth shut and offering no response.

  “It’s a little cold tonight, don’t you think?” He tilts his head, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I think we should start a little fire. What you reckon, guys?” He turns around getting the approval of the other men, but they remain silent. I glance at them, sadness in their eyes. Digging out his lighter, Silver flicks his thumb over the wheel, igniting the huge flame. It roars in front of his face, his hand reaching for something on the ground. Flipping back the lid, he cuts off the flame, holding it in one hand as he opens the lid to the small canister. Tipping it out in front of me, he splashes what I now know is gasoline at my feet.

  “Think it’s time to start a little fire, don’t you?” he asks, a smirk dressing his aged lips. Tossing the lighter into the air, he catches it in his hand, and in one smooth move, he flicks back the lid and ignites it once more. Bellowing laughter escapes him as he drops the lighter to the ground. “Ooops,” he gasps playfully as it connects with the gasoline and ignites.

  The gasoline ignites, flames spread on the ground around my feet.

  “No,” I choke out, the smell of the burning gasoline stings my nostrils. “You don’t want to do this.” I yell out my pathetic warning. Only it’s too late. Tugging at the rope that fastens me to the fence, I attempt to free myself, yet, I can’t. I shuffle my feet back as much as I can, avoiding the heat from the fast-spreading flames. My body heats up as the fire grows closer to my feet. It isn’t just the fire that has me feeling hot, it’s the panic that’s rising. Are they really going to kill me? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I close my eyes, hoping for some sort of miracle. Despite the crackle of the flames beneath my feet, I hear Silver laughing and jeering as I struggle to stop myself from catching on fire. I use the sole of my boot to stamp on the flames that are getting dangerously close.

  Only it doesn’t work.

  The hem of my jeans catches fire and before I know it, the flames have ignited on my legs.

  “Fuck,” I roar, my heart thudding so hard I’m sure it’s going to break through my damn chest. Shaking my leg like crazy, I try to kill the flame, the feel of the fire burning my legs is almost too much to take. The previous smell of gasoline replaced with the putrid smell of burning flesh. Clenching my teeth together, I tilt my head, trying to steady my rapid breathing.

  “Enough,” I roar, my voice echoing through the night air.

  “Ooh, he’s had enough,” Silvers taunts wickedly.

  “Seriously, man. How long are we going to leave him?” Davo asks, but Silver doesn’t respond. He laughs, digging his hand into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and dropping to the ground, holding the tip to the flame. Placing it loosely in his lips, he takes a drag, smoke pluming around him.

  “This is getting out of control.” Davo steps forward, as if he’s about to approach me. Silver shoots to his feet, the palm of his hand landing flat on Davo’s chest.

  “Back the fuck up…” Silver spits at him.

  “No.” He pushes
him with force on his chest. “It’s time to end this.” Barreling past Silver, he storms toward me, slipping out the knife he has in his belt and slicing across the ropes around my wrist.

  “You fucking traitor,” Silver screams at Davo, saliva flying from his mouth. Cutting through the second lot of rope, I’m finally free. Staggering away from the fire, I drop to the ground, rolling to kill the flames eating away at my jeans. The wounds sting so fucking much. I rest up on my elbows, scared to look at the mess my legs are in. Sure enough, the skin around my ankles is red and swollen.

  “Fuck, fuck. Fuck,” I grumble, trying to unfasten the belt to my jeans. I have to get them off, I can feel them sticking to the wounds. Standing, I slide down the jeans, but it’s no good. The damage to my legs is too bad. Vomit stings my throat as I force it back down.

  “Teach him a lesson,” he roars. “That’s exactly what I did, jackass. You don’t get to tell me I went too far. Not now, not ever.”

  “Teach him a lesson, not let him burn to death, fuck nugget. You nearly killed him. Kid don’t deserve that.”

  “You don’t get to decide what he deserves and what he don’t. You ain’t the boss.”

  “Boss would not have wanted this,” Roach adds calmly. “You went too far, Silver. Too fucking far.”

  “He’ll live, won’t he?” he replies in a taut voice, like he realizes what he’s done.

  “Yeah, thanks to me,” Davo spits back, stepping toward me and kneeling down in front of me.

  “Can’t get them off,” I grate out.

  “We need to get you to the hospital, kid.” Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulls me to my feet and guides me around the side of the house and out the front. “Should put a cool towel on those burns,” he says, his eyes travelling toward the location of the burns.

  “No, man,” I decline vehemently. “Just get me to the hospital.”

  “You okay riding bitch? Your legs look pretty fucking bad, bro.”

  And they are bad. Pain sears through my legs, and my stomach knots as the pain increases in waves. Each peak makes the nausea worse. The pain lies so deep beneath the skin, stinging and burning that I know I need to get to the hospital. And fast.

  “I don’t see we have any other choice,” I force out, knowing the only car we have has gone to be fixed, thanks to me attacking the back window.

  “Jump the fuck on then.” He nods towards his Harley and I try to lift my leg over but the pain sears through me.

  “I don’t think I can get my leg over.” I shake my head, frustrated as hell, pain spiking once more.

  “We gotta get you on this damn bike somehow.” He forces out a laugh. “Here, let me help.” Grabbing my boot, he slowly guides my leg over, letting it rest gently. “Done," he sings, brushing his palms together before jumping on the front. “Imma take it slow, okay, kid? But I’ll have to drop you at the door. I can’t be seen taking sides, you get me?”

  “Thanks.” I whisper my reply.

  Tara

  Catching teardrops in my hand, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I feel empty. Completely and utterly lost in my own skin. The pain I feel deep inside is like a pain I’ve never experienced before.

  I’m used and unwanted.

  The one person I want more than anything doesn’t want me, and I’m supposed to be okay with it. I don’t think that will ever be possible. Pretending I’m okay is the way I’ve been dealing with this, only I know I can’t this time. He's broken me beyond measure.

  The sound of my cell phone ringing catches my attention. I race back into my bedroom, diving on the bed and answering the call.

  “So… how did the date go?” Izzy’s voice sings sweetly down the receiver.

  “Oh, Izzy.” I muffle a cry, but I know she must have heard it. I fight back the emotion, not wanting to be that heartbroken friend that cries all the time.

  “What? What is it? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” she blurts out, her tone full of concern.

  “No, no, not at all,” I’m quick to respond. “I made a mistake. A stupid mistake,” I say, allowing my ass to fall back on the bed, pulling my legs up and crossing them beneath me.

  “Talk to me, Tara. What is it?”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “Of course,” she says with a whisper.

  “Okay, so I had a little too much to drink. I saw Brax and, ugh, what an asshole.”

  She clears her throat and I continue. “I know you love him, Izzy, but honestly, he just wouldn’t leave me alone. I got angry with him and stormed out for some fresh air. As soon as I stepped outside I suddenly felt really drunk. I could barely stand, and then you’ll never guess.”

  “What?” she breathes down the phone.

  “Nate turned up, all heroic and looking hot.”

  “Oh, Jesus, no,” she screeches.

  “Uh-huh,” I reply, placing my finger in my mouth and biting on the skin at the side of my nail. “It’s so fucked up, Izzy. I feel so used.”

  “You slept with him?” Her words are followed by a huge gasp.

  “Yes, I just couldn’t help myself. I want him. I want him in my life. I love him, despite everything he’s put me through.”

  “Oh, babe,” she sighs heavily. “You need to speak with Brax. That’s, uh, that’s actually why I called.”

  “Why?” I ask with a sniffle.

  “Because he spoke with Nate last night. There are things you need to know. But not like this. Meet us at Espresso café, okay?”

  “But I’ll see you at work.”

  “No,” she blurts out. “Not there.”

  “Why?” I ask, confusion swimming through my head.

  “No questions,” she chuckles. “Just meet us there in an hour.”

  “Yes, boss,” I say with a mock salute.

  “Good, see you then.” She ends the call and I can’t help but feel curious about what she has to tell me.

  Arriving at Espresso café, I walk through the door, spotting Brax and Izzy sitting in the corner. She has her legs crossed, their knees are touching, and her hand covers his. They look so loved up, so perfect together. My stomach sinks, but the only reason I’m here is on the promise of getting some sort of information from Brax.

  Izzy turns and faces me. Smiling widely, she beckons me to join them. I hadn’t realized that I was momentarily frozen to the spot. Shaking my head, I walk toward them, Izzy stepping from her seat and embracing me. Wrapping my arms around her, I mold into her embrace, wanting to let out all of my pain and emotion. But I don’t. Instead, I bite down on my lip, forcing back the tears that threaten to break the surface.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers into my ear, her palm caressing my back.

  Separating from her hold, I nod my head, sliding into the small wooden chair.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” The pretty young waitress appears beside me, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

  “Coffee. Strong,” I snap. The woman scribbles something on her notepad, dipping her head and scuttling away from us. “So, Brax… spit it out.”

  “Nice to see you too, Tara.”

  “Enough with the bullshit, Brax. You have something to say, let’s just cut to the chase and talk it out.” My arms fly in the air as my voice becomes louder and my body becomes animated.

  “Calm down,” he whisper-shouts. “I’m here because I care. Because I care about you both.”

  “Nate?” I ask with a scoff. “That asshole only cares about himself—”

  “You’re wrong,” he cuts me off. “He’s fucking crazy about you.”

  “Sure,” I drawl. “Or maybe he’s just fucking crazy.”

  “Stop,” Brax roars. I jerk at the sharpness of his voice. The rest of the café turn to look at us, voices now hushed and all eyes on us. But they quickly turn away. Brax is known by pretty much everyone around these parts. He’s the ultimate businessman.

  Leaning over the table, he clenches his hands together, fidgeting nervously. “I gave him my w
ord. I swore to him I wouldn’t say anything to you, but I’m stuck in the fucking middle here. And not telling you is a mistake. You have to know what sort of danger you’re in.”

  “Danger?” I gasp, my hand flying to my now galloping heart. “What kind of danger?” My heart leaps into my throat and stays there, blocking the ability for me to inhale my next breath.

  “Jeffries… he wants you for himself.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “That is never gonna happen,” I say with finality.

  “Carter promised you to him. He made a deal with the MC devil, and the devil wants his prize. That’s why Nate has been forced to stay away. He so much as looks at you and he’s dead. Tara, Nate doesn’t want this. He’s trying to protect you. Keep you at arm’s length.”

  Gulping down the sick that has risen in my throat, I can’t help but fill with dread. Who is going to protect me now that Carter isn’t here?

  “Fuck Carter,” I spit out. “You can’t call on a deal with a dead man.”

  “If he touches you, Tara, he knows that would be war between us. He’s fully aware you’re under my protection.”

  “So we go to war. We have no choice, Brax.”

  “It’s not that simple,” he sighs, slumping in his chair. “I’m not supposed to know. That’s why you have to promise this stays between the three of us.”

  My heart is racing, hammering at my chest like it’s looking for a way out. How can any of this be true? How could Carter promise me to the head of the MC? I allow my mind to wander, thoughts of Nate blur everything else. There’s an explanation. A really good explanation as to why he is pushing me away.

  “I knew this wasn’t what he wanted,” I mumble, leaning forward on my elbows, my fingers skirting my sensitive lips. The memory of the night before flashes through my mind. My eyes focus on the spotty tablecloth beneath my elbows and the hurt I once felt is now replaced with hope. Hope that the one thing I want more than anything isn’t completely lost.

  “Tara,” his voice calls, snapping me from my thoughts. “Did you hear a word of what I said?”