In love and ruins

by Rachael Tonks

  “How did you know I was here?” I question him, narrowing my eyes as I dig in my pockets trying to find my cigarettes.

  “I heard about what happened. Fuck, this is so messed up.” He places his arm across my shoulder, squeezing lightly, pulling me toward him. “Let’s jump in the car. We can talk, away from prying eyes.” He tips his head toward someone I’ve never seen, and I eye him

  suspiciously.

  “You think I’m being watched?” I ask, my voice quiet, but just loud enough for him to hear.

  “I know you are,” he mumbles guiding me to the edge of the sidewalk and across the road. Making our way over to where his car is parked, he presses the key fob, unlocking the doors. I grab the handle and slowly drop myself into the seat, swinging in my throbbing, swollen legs. Clenching my teeth together, I wince at the pain.

  “You good?” he asks, his eyes dart to my legs, then back to meet mine.

  “Nah, man,” I say with a defeated smile. “This is all fucked up, so fucked up.”

  “How bad are they?”

  “They’ll heal. I ain’t worried about my fucking legs. I’m worried about Tara. What the fuck, man? I just can’t wrap my head around this whole bullshit.”

  “If he makes one wrong move, I’ll have no choice but to take him out. I owe it

  to Tara. She is under my protection.”

  “My father knows this. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You think there’s more to this?” he asks, turning his body to face me.

  “I have no idea, Brax. My mind's all over the place right now. All I know is he’s going to make things very fucking difficult for me.” I look down at my legs, pointing with my index finger. “I think this is just the start of things to come. If it wasn’t for Davo, I’m not sure that Silver wouldn’t have left me to burn alive.”

  “He’s loving the fact that your father hates you right now. Silver likes being the boss’ bitch. Make no mistake, should Jeffries no longer be in charge, Silver wants to head the Savages and there’s only one person standing in his way.” He presses his finger against my chest. “Question is, do you want it? Do you want to be the next president of the Savages? Or are you happy to serve and follow without question, trust without proof? Because let me tell you, Silver is vice president for a reason. He’s clawed his way to the top and earned his patch. Whereas you, my boy, were born to wear the patch.” I glance to the emblem sewn to my leather cut. The ugly-ass skull with wings in the background is a constant reminder of who I am and where I come from. It’s all I’ve ever known.

  “I ain’t living under Silver’s rules. Shit, I can barely live by my father's.”

  “So hand in your patch and leave the club. People leave all the time, right? Walk away, Nate. Do something to make you happy.”

  I scoff a little, rolling my eyes. “Man, if it was that easy, I’d have left years ago.”

  “It’s common practice. Men and women leave groups all the time,” he replies, clearly confused.

  “Oh yeah, they leave. But they are found and killed, Brax. Dad doesn’t believe in people walking away. They know too much. They could go to the fucking feds or anything. It’s how he controls us.”

  “Shit,” he mumbles, pushing his hand through his hair.

  “Yep,” I reply. “Twenty years of knowledge ain’t gonna walk out of the club. He’ll never allow it. But right now, all I care about is keeping Tara safe. I can’t let that sick motherfucker lay a finger on her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “You dig her, don’t you?”

  “I’m fucking crazy about her, Brax. Which is what makes it so hard to walk away. She has been the one good thing I’ve had in my life, since, well, since forever.”

  “She’s something special,” he agrees with a nod. “It’s just fucked up that the two of you can’t be together.”

  “I’m loyal to the club because I’m told I have to be. I obey my father because I have no choice. Something's gotta give, Brax.”

  “Maybe it’s time a new Savage steps up?”

  “Fuck.” I laugh nervously. “The men aren’t loyal to me. I can’t control those crazy motherfuckers.”

  “How d'ya know? Huh?” he asks with a lift of his chin. “I’ve seen you in charge. You’re a good, fair leader who makes good decisions. That’s why I deal with you, and only you. Because, unlike the others, I know I can trust you. I reckon you’re exactly what the MC needs right now.”

  I slowly let out a huge breath, blown away that Brax has so much confidence in me, even if I think it is somewhat misplaced.

  “Think about it,” he says, slapping the side of my face lightly. “If you can’t leave, then own it, Nate. Make it your own.”

  Tapping my thumb against my lip, I stare out of the windshield as my mind races, thinking about his suggestion.

  Pressing the fancy-looking touchscreen display, he presses it, the sudden sound of a dial tone plays through the car.

  “I’m calling Tara. She’s worried about you.” He shoots me a sideways smile.

  “Brax,” Tara’s voice booms through the speakers and I almost have to clutch my chest. My heart pounds hard and fast, and I know it’s hearing her voice that’s the cause of it.

  “Did you find him? Is he okay?” I sense the worry in the tone of her voice and can’t stop the words flying from my mouth.

  “He’s in the car. You’re on speakerphone,” Brax replies.

  “I’m fine,” I rush out.

  “Oh, thank God.” She exhales heavily. “What happened to you? What did they do?”

  “You don’t need to worry. I’m fine,” I say, dismissing her.

  “Oh… okay. Good,” she replies, as if not knowing what to say.

  “Listen, Brax,” she says.

  “Yeah,” he replies letting her know he’s listening.

  “I, uh, don’t want you to freak out but, I uh…”

  “Oh, for fuck's sake, spit it out already,” he snaps, clearly on edge about whatever Tara is struggling to share with us.

  “Well, Jeffries called me. God knows how he got my number, but he was inviting me to a party at the clubhouse tonight.”

  “Fuck,” I mumble, balling my fists as I feel the anger rising inside me. I said I’d protect her and keep her away from him, yet it seems he’s seeking her out.

  “What the fuck…?” Brax looks at me, his nostrils widened, and his brows drawn together.

  “Well, he kinda made some really gross suggestion and I’m worried it freaked Izzy out a little. She’s okay. I’m still with her. I mean she’s in the bathroom right now, but both of us are still at the office. Anyhow, I just thought you should know. I think she kinda needs you right now. The things he said brought back some pretty awful memories…”

  “I’m on my way,” he says ending the call, revving the engine and shifting into drive. Gripping the steering wheel, his fingernails dig into the material. “I’ll take you to the clubhouse. But we continue this another time, got it?”

  “Sure,” I reply, grabbing the handle on the door as he swings the car out into the road, speeding like a madman.

  “So tell me.” Brax glances at me momentarily before turning his focus back to the road. “Why doesn’t your father have an old lady?”

  “He did. Jan was his old lady for a long time. But she didn’t like the fact that my father would fuck whores. I guess the illusion of being in the MC didn’t quite match the reality. She stupidly thought she was the one who would make my father loyal. Once the thrill of flirting with danger wore off, there was nothing left for her. She didn’t get the respect she expected from the other members and decided to leave. Only, my father was never going to let that happen.”

  “Fuck,” he grumbles.

  “Yep. No president is ever going to allow his old lady to just walk away. Never been anyone else since,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “Now he just has whores on tap. Women throwing themselves at him, desperate to be the prez’s next old lady.”

&nb
sp; Brax’s eyes jerk in surprise. “Not sure they’d want to if they knew the truth. Seems no one gets out alive.”

  “Not unless my father kicks them out. That’s happened a few times.”

  He chuckles. “Lucky for them.”

  “Hmmm,” I hum in agreement. “Listen, drop me at the end of the road. I have no clue how this is going to go down. You know, since I’m being watched and all.” I exhale heavily.

  “Nate,” Brax breathes, pausing for a second before continuing. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I feel like you need to know.”

  “What?” I glare at him, waiting for him to reply.

  “Davo.” He lowers his voice as if we are in a room and he’s worried someone will hear. “He’s working for me. I have him reporting everything back to me. He’s looking out for you, without drawing too much attention to the fact that he’s a rat.”

  “Davo… he’s your informant? What? For real?” I ask in a voice just above a hiss.

  “He’s a Savage, first and foremost. But I have an agreement with him. I have to know that you’re alive. I need information from inside. You’re under the spotlight, so I needed it to be someone other than you.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Well, good fucking job really. But what I’m trying to say is this. He’s your man should you need to get a message to me.”

  The car slows and Brax pulls over on the side of the road. “Thanks, man.” I reach for the handle of the door, making my way out. Dipping my head, I look at Brax, nodding to him before closing the door and making my way down the road to the clubhouse. I put one foot in front of the other, clenching my teeth together as I try to breathe through the pain in my legs. Pushing my hands into my jeans pockets, I make my way through the gate and to the front door. Dipping the handle slowly, I glance up, a face appearing immediately in my line of sight. Resting my hand on the side of the wall, I try to steady my rapid heart rate. I’m not out of shape, but I’m a fucking mess right now.

  “Boss wants to see you. NOW,” Angelo informs me. I nod my head in acceptance. “Need a hand there, man?”

  “I’m good,” I dismiss him, grabbing the front of my cut and straightening it. Striding toward the living room, I push open the door, my eyes quickly scan the room. The overpowering smell of cigars hits my senses. My father smiles at me and there’s no hiding the smug look on Silver’s face. The man I despise with every ounce of hatred I have.

  “Nate,” he says, holding out his arms. He wears a huge grin on his face and has a cigar clasped between his fingers. “So glad to see you’re alright. Unfortunate what happened to your legs.” He points down at my shins, wavering his finger at the burns he can see through the clear wrap strapped around my leg.

  “Unfortunate,” I repeat, unable to believe this shit. There are so many things I want to say. So much shit I want to throw at the motherfucker glaring at me like I’m something he’s stepped in.

  “You’ll heal,” he says, closing the space between us. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, taking a huge drag on his cigar before blowing the smoke into my face. I drop my head to the side, coughing a little as the smoke stings my eyes and floods my nostrils. “Come sit with us,” he instructs, guiding me over to the couch, sitting me beside Silver. My skin crawls to be sitting beside him, the anger inside bubbling to boiling point. I peer hard at Silver, his eyes returning my glare. I hold it there. There’s no way I’m backing down from this son of a bitch.

  “No hard feelings,” he says, offering me his hand with a smirk.

  “Fuck you, Silver,” I spit back, venom lacing my words.

  My father grabs hold of my chin in a viselike grip, jabbing me in the ribs. “Listen here, boy,” he snarls. “You got yourself into this shit. You disrespected me. I’m not just your father, I’m the fucking president of this damn club.” Squeezing harder, saliva flies from his mouth as he loses his shit. “I give the fucking orders and you follow. Got it?”

  I don’t reply, I just nod my head.

  “You’re my son. The one who should set an example to everyone else here.” Loosening the grip on my chin, he thrusts it to the side. “Nothing but a disappointment,” he growls. “You need to remember where your fucking loyalties lie.”

  Not with you, I reply mentally.

  “You should go rest. We have an initiation ceremony tonight,” he informs me, sliding down into his seat. Resting my hand on the coffee table just in front, I look at him, trying to hide the hatred in my eyes.

  “I’m going to give this one a miss.” I glance down to my legs. “I need to rest. My legs are fucked up.”

  His face blanches, his hand covering mine and instantly he applies pressure. Grabbing his cigar cutter, he lines it up at the end of my finger.

  “What the fuck… get off of me,” I yell, fighting to release my hand from his hold.

  “I gave an order.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” I roar, looking him deep in his piercing blue eyes. The same eyes I see every time I glance at my reflection. There’s no denying I’m his son. Our eyes are the exact same shade of blue, but that’s where the resemblance ends. One thing I know with absolute certainty is that I’m nothing like my father.

  Holding the cutter at the tip of my finger, he continues to stare at me.

  “I’m the fucking prez of this club. I have to have order. That patch." He points at the emblem sewn onto my cut. “That fucking patch means you’re part of this club, whether you like it or not. And you will follow the rules, Nate.”

  “Fuck, alright,” I say with a nod. “You want me there, I’m there. I just thought I’d be able to pass tonight, you know, my legs and all.” I glance down at them, hoping to get him to see sense. Releasing the hold on my hand, he drops the cutter to the table, stepping up from his seat.

  “Main room. Seven p.m. Don’t be late,” he orders, bringing his cigar to his mouth, taking a huge drag and blowing circles of smoke into the air.

  “No problem,” I reply, hoping to appease the asshole.

  “Good.” He reaches down, patting me with a thud on my back, before turning and storming out of the room. Only Silver doesn’t leave. He remains in his seat and I glance at him wondering what this fucker wants.

  “He’s too soft on you, asshole.” Silver’s face is as hard as stone, his eyes burning into mine. But I don’t reply. I jerk to a stand, turning my back to Silver.

  “No fucking respect.” He spits his words at me, and I glower at him from over my shoulder. Lifting my knuckles, I run my fingers over them as the anger boils like an unwatched pot inside of me.

  “Respect?” I turn to him, cocking my head to the side. “Did you come clean about Harlan, huh? Jeffries knows his other son has been burnt to a crisp after you hacked off his hand that night at Alvrez’s place?” I lift my brows, my voice low, but the meaning behind my words anything but.

  “I was following your orders,” he stutters out as he shoots up from his seat.

  “How’s that work then, Vice President?”

  “Fuck you, Nate. You ain’t blackmailing me, you scrawny motherfucker. You know we would both be fucked if he found out.”

  “Seems to me we should be sticking together, Silver. Or am I a threat to you? You worried that after all the years you’ve dedicated to the Savages and this whole club that you won’t get your chance at being prez, huh? Is that it?”

  He sneers, “As if anyone would vote you in.” He continues to laugh, a little maniacally.

  “And they want a fucking psycho running the club?” I counter his comment and the smug look on his face drops. “You’re unstable, not fit to be a leader. No one respects you, Silver. They fear you—”

  “Fear means respect,” he cuts me off, his voice rising as he tries to assert his authority.

  “You’re so wrong, Silver. So very fucking wrong.” I palm my chin, staring at him. The look of panic in his eyes is hilarious. I spin on the spot, walking out of the room with a sense of satisfaction. I make my way upstairs, digg
ing into what’s left of my jeans and grab the key to my room. As I reach it, I unlock the door, walking in and leaning back against it. I thud my head back against the door a little as frustration courses through me. Sick waves in my stomach at the thought of Tara. I’m scared for her, but it's not just that. I’m not afraid to admit my feelings for this chick, well, at least not to myself. But the feelings I have for her are eating away at my soul, destroying it a little every time I have to admit that I will never be able to have her in my life. I’ve never really given any thought to love, and that’s maybe because, growing up, I never really felt love. I hadn’t experienced it to know what it truly felt like. But being with Tara, the way she makes me feel, fuck, it’s foreign to me. But now I know. And the pain of coming to terms with what I have lost is too much to bear.

  Placing the key in the door, I lock it, stumbling over to the bed to lie down. Thinking of her is like a punch in the gut. It takes my breath and my head pounds. But somehow, I just can’t accept this fate that I’ve been handed.

  I want her, and I have to make her mine. I want her in a way I’ve never wanted anything in my life. Like she’s the ultimate addiction. The feeling she gives me can’t be matched by any narcotics. It’s something completely different. More addictive, more satisfying, totally overpowering.

  Although I know in my mind there is only one way that can happen.

  I have to fight my father to have her in my life. And fuck, it might cost me mine. But I have to try. Because dying for her seems better than dying inside because I can’t have her.

  Having a taste of Tara has unleashed something in me. Something I can’t even begin to understand. It’s made me someone I never imagined I’d be. A man willing to kill his leader, his own father, just to have her here with me. In my arms.

  Emptying my pockets of the meds the nurse gave me, I fall back on the bed, allowing my eyes to flutter shut. The pain in my legs will eventually stop, the tightening of my chest every time I think about Tara will never leave.

  Not until the day I have her back here with me.