Fractured & Formidable: The Sacred Hearts MC Book V

by Downey, A. J.

  “We aren’t done. Something is going on with you and Em won’t break your guys’ bro code so…” he raised his eyebrows and willed me to fill in the blanks. I smiled wanly.

  “Just a lot to do, for the church and the upcoming holiday fund-raiser,” which was true, just not all of it. “I’m off to read and relax, I have a lot to do tomorrow for both it and the shop. You really shouldn’t worry so much but it’s very sweet that you do.” I kissed Dray’s cheek and he gave me a crooked grin.

  “Okay Mandy-girl,” he used the nickname my mother and Everett had been using on me since the dawn of time. “I’ll let it go for now, but don’t think Zander will go easy on you. He’s a right pain in the ass if you present him with a mystery.” He winked at me and I stiffened.

  “You didn’t!” I gave him a considering look and his face said it all, he most certainly had. My shoulders dropped, “You did.” I chewed my bottom lip and Dray’s overall look softened. He sat up and pulled me into a hug.

  “You’re my Em’s family, which makes you the entire MC’s family, Red. It’s been a year you been living here and that’s an entire year of Sundays, watching you come home half wrecked and watching it take the better part of the week for you to put yourself back together,” he pursed his lips and when he didn’t get anything from me, huffed out a harsh sigh and continued. “And for what? For you to go over there and have the damn cycle repeat itself?” He sat back and held me by my elbows and searched my face.

  “Now, as your honorary big brother I am obligated to kick someone’s ass for making my baby sister…” he frowned, “You never cry, but you get what I’m sayin’ here.” I nodded.

  “Really Dray, you’re making something out of nothing, nothing at all,” I smiled and it was both equal parts sad and tired. “I’m grabbing a shower and bed. Tomorrow’s horizon is a lot closer than I’d like it to be and I have a lot to get ready for.” he let me go.

  “Night then,” he said and sounded more frustrated than happy about it.

  “Good night, Dray,” I smiled and went past him and into my room. My bed was still made from the day before seeing as I hadn’t slept in it but my robe and nightgown which I had carelessly discarded that morning on the floor, were neatly laid out on the bed for me. There was a note on the robe written on the back of a discarded envelope.

  Hey Red,

  Text me when you get home. I’m kind of missing you already. Last night was real nice. Wow. Awkward. I wish this message would self-destruct once you read it. It makes me look like some kind of pansy. Anyways, here’s my number. Hope I hear from you.

  -Revelator… Zander.

  He left his number under his signature and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. His handwriting, for a guy, was actually lovely. A looping flowing script that made my cursive look positively terrible by comparison. I went to my dresser and tucked the envelope between the frame and the silvered glass of the mirror, right below the first picture ever taken of me and Everett from the second grade.

  I frowned and picked up my small ampule of Lily of the Valley perfume oil from the varnished wood’s top. I set it back in its place beside my deodorant on the medium silver tray that held all my perfume, makeup and toiletries. I couldn’t for the life of me recall if I had put any on this morning and simply set it back on the dresser top instead of where it belonged in my rush to get out the door. I looked over everything and satisfied it was where it belonged and the perfume was the only thing out of place began to change for bed.

  I read my Kindle, a Christmas gift from Everett two years ago, for a while before my uncontrollable yawning forced me to tug the bead chain on my bedside lamp and set the kindle aside for the time being. Dray was right, visiting with my parents really did take it out of me.

  Chapter 5

  Revelator…

  As soon as Red was out the door, her small blue car pulling away from the curb, I went back inside. I finished cleaning up the kitchen from the night before which really just means I put soap, which I conveniently found under the sink, into the dishwasher and ran it. Like a total fucking creeper I found myself back in her bedroom. Everything was perfect and neat in here. Like something out of a magazine or some shit except for her robe and nightgown which lay in a puddle on the floor.

  I stared for a long time at the creamy pool of satin lying there against the gray carpet and all I could do was picture it sliding down my Red’s alabaster skin, those freckles of hers spattered across her lush curves and smooth skin like the stars across our universe. God damn the girl was under my skin!

  I was miserably hard in my shorts and I already had a deep and abiding ache in my balls when she’d pushed off of me that morning. I picked up her robe and nightgown and laid them out side by side over her crisply made bed. She had everything tucked and creased with military precision and when I picked up the edge of her comforter and peeked, I half expected her sheets to be folded into prison corners.

  I’d spent enough time in Juvie and later in County for assault & battery and the occasional drunk & disorderly to know what those looked like. Hell, I used them myself on my own bed at home. Her bedroom was done in soft greens and creams. The furniture white and done all classic rustic farmhouse. The walls a subtle, light mint. Her comforter had subtle ivy patterns on it and her sheets, from what I could see, were matched to it.

  She had one bedside table, the full bed pushed flush against the wall on the one side and at the head, tucked neatly into the corner of the room. On the nightstand rested a reading device in this green leather cover with a giant oak tree on the front. Some Celtic thing. A glass of water stood by if she needed it and a really nice stained glass lamp with lily pads, water lilies and jewel bright dragonflies presided over it all.

  I decided I’d better leave a note or something, I didn’t know if she still had my number or not. I looked around and found an empty envelope slit open at the top just chillin’ on top of some other miscellaneous trash in her wastebasket by the dresser. I picked it off the top and pulled a pen from a cup of ‘em underneath on a shelf built under the drawer on her bedside table. I smoothed the envelope flat on the dresser when this little glass tube caught my eye. It had a matte gold top and a pastel label in pinks, yellows, greens and blues. I picked it up and smiled to myself. The purple script on the label said Lilly of the Valley Perfume Oil. I twisted off the cap and breathed it in.

  Yep. That was it. The clean, delicate, flower scent that drove me fucking wild every time I caught it lingering in the air near where she’d been, or when I held her close. Only it wasn’t quite the same. It was a funny time to remember it, but I recalled some bitch I was banging back in the day asking me how something smelled on her when we were out at a shopping mall. She’d said that perfume smelled just a touch different on everyone. That no two people wore it exactly alike or some shit. I could believe that, that some of the smell that twisted me up and turned me inside out was just purely Red.

  I capped the vial, twisting it tight and set it down on the dresser. I needed to get the fuck out of here. I was pretty sure I was square in the middle of being a creepy-ass stalker fucktard, so I wrote out a quick note with my number at the bottom, laid it on her bed and returned the pen where it belonged. Then I got the fuck out of her room and locked the place up tight behind me.

  I drove home, put in a brutal morning workout, showered, ate and spent a decent chunk of time at my drafting table drawing up some random tattoo designs to stay in practice. Couldn’t tell you why all of them were girly as fuck and along the same damned theme. I ended up with any number of crosses surrounded by ribbons and lilies and even spent some time plucking out some random inspirational bible quotes for some of it. I figured if anything, with as many of the small drawings I put to a single page, they would serve as some decent flash art for the walls of whatever new place me, Trig, Dis and Ash opened up. Like a phoenix, Open Road Ink would rise from the ashes at some point. Might as well be ready for it.

  Huh.

  Phoenix
.

  Not bad.

  As soon as I was done with the Christian flash I started on a mythical creature set starting with a phoenix. I must have been at it for hours. It was a good way to kill time on a Sunday. Around four in the afternoon I started stealing glances at my phone which was chillin’ dark and lonely on the edge of my table. Around four-thirty, I found myself willing the damned thing to light up. Around five I willed it to ring, and by seven I was getting seriously fucking agitated, my knee bouncing of its own volition, expending nervous energy.

  I hit the gym for a hard evening workout to burn off the rest, docking my phone and using it to blast music in the home gym. I don’t think I took my eyes off it as I went through rep after rep building chest, arms, and upper body. This was fucking ridiculous man! I was like a teenage fucking boy all over again! I ain’t been a teenager in a long damned time and this shit was like living some of the worst fucking parts of it that I’d never actually had to live before. I had never wanted for pussy. Not then and to be honest, not fucking now either. I could have any club whore I wanted writhing underneath me in the space it took me to grin at ‘em but that was the giant problem here.

  I didn’t want a random piece of pussy. I wanted Red. And Red didn’t operate like any other girl I had ever known. She didn’t care about looks, she didn’t give a shit about what kind of car I drove or how much green was in my pocket. I dropped the hand weight to the floor and sat for a long minute, chest heaving, sweat cooling, gelling into place on my skin.

  “Hey Disney!” I yelled and waited, and waited some more. Shit. Not home. I got into a shower and let the hot spray ease the tension between my shoulders. It was almost eight-thirty and still no call or text. I closed my eyes and every time I did I couldn’t help but picture Red’s angelic face, smoothed into lines of utter contented peace as she’d rested against my chest the night before. I’d spent fucking hours last night memorizing the moment. Every line, every detail, while SoA had played on mindlessly in the background. God I was hard again. Only this time I was in a position to do something about it and so I did. Still, jerking it in the shower was a frigid comfort and one shitty consolation prize.

  I thought about going over there but I held myself in check for the moment. I dried off and pulled on a pair of comfortable basketball shorts to wear around the house. I checked my phone again and was surprised to see a text from Dray.

  Dray: She came home around six. Something’s got her down, she went to bed pretty much as soon as she got here.

  Me: Should I come over?

  It felt like fucking forever before my phone buzzed in my hand with a return message. My breath whooshed out and I shook my damned head over the fact I’d even been holding it.

  Dray: Naw man. Let her sleep but might not be a bad idea you took over watch at their shop if you got time.

  Me: Anything you say VP.

  Dray: Not telling you this as your VP dude. Tired of watching that girl come home missing pieces if you get me. It bothers my girl and what bothers my girl always bothers me in the end.

  Me: I hear you. I’ll find out what’s up. When is the next time she’s supposed to go over there? Sunday?

  Dray: No. Thx Giving this Thurs. dude. She’s spending it with her folks.

  Me: Copy that.

  Dray: Later douchebag.

  Me: Later dick-cheese.

  Dray: Fuck. You win.

  I chuckled and gave a sigh. I tossed my phone to the side and scrubbed my face with my hands. If it was enough to get Dray involved then it was high past time for me to be involved. It was definitely time for me to do some sleuthing. Figure some shit out and what was going on with my girl. I had a busy couple of days up ahead. Trigger and me were supposed to go scouting around town for a prime location for a new shop, which was a lot harder than it sounded. We’d already been turned down by two spots because of the explosion.

  The insurance company was supposed to settle with us on Tuesday before the fucking holiday, and with as much as they’d been dicking around, we were gonna see what this latest offer was, and if it was shit like the last two? Well, we weren’t afraid to lawyer up. We just didn’t want to drag it out any further than we had to and we sure as hell didn’t want to resort to his woman’s money. Ashton had done way more than enough between the club and opening up Soul Fuel with Ev and Red.

  I dragged my ass to bed even though my mind was restless as Hell. Part of staying fit and in prime fighting condition was to get the requisite amount of sleep. Still, every damned time I closed my eyes I was assaulted with the vision of the season personified. Red was a fucking goddess and I wanted so fucking bad to make her mine in every way.

  Chapter 6

  Mandy…

  I felt incredibly guilty. I’d programmed Zander’s number into my contacts but I never called him or texted him and I hadn’t seen or heard from him either. I had been so completely slammed the last three days, what with the approaching holiday and now having to plan for the fundraiser and make sure I had enough of everything, including the money it would take to purchase ingredients… I’d figured out that I wouldn’t be doing anything fun for the next two, three months or so if I were going to make my penance for my late church arrival doable.

  I’d worked on Monday, my other day off, to make absolutely sure that I was ahead of the holiday shoppers we were anticipating for Friday and to plan all this church fundraiser business out. I wasn’t about to defer the cost of my mistake to our business, however, I was going to make this a prime free advertising venture by slathering every box of chocolates I made with the shop’s name, address, phone number and logo in hopes of getting something out of it.

  Hopefully my scheme would go unnoticed by daddy and everyone would win. He’d look good, Soul Fuel would look good, and the church would receive the donations it was seeking for both itself and this year’s fundraising cause, which I didn’t even know what it was this year, but it was one thing my father let my mother do, so whatever it was, knowing my mom, it was good. Last year it had gone to a local homeless shelter, the year before it had been in the name of Saint Francis and had gone to the local animal shelter.

  I had a couple of binders full of photos and descriptions of different chocolates and packaging ideas, ranging from contemporary to fall to Christmas holiday. I was hoping that my father would be in a good mood and I could sit down with him and make him a part of things as Thanksgiving dinner cooked. It was probably way too idealistic of me to think so, but stupidly, I still held out hope that daddy and I would reach some sort of understanding on something that didn’t involve me, or my mother, getting cracked in the mouth and wound up with us just doing whatever he told us to do in order to keep the illusion of peace and harmony in place.

  I pulled up to the curb in front of their house which was lit from the inside by a deceptively cheery glow. The clouds hung low and gray and threatened rain, the sky ominous and drear… or maybe it was just me. I sighed. The older I’d become the worse my father became. Still, it was Thanksgiving and while last year Everett had been here to cushion things a bit, this year she was spending Thanksgiving with Dray and their motorcycle club family. They had tried valiantly to talk me in to doing the same but I just couldn’t leave my mom. Not for the holiday.

  I went up to the door, one arm burdened with my purse and two binders and knocked. It opened and my mother blinked at me, surprised.

  “Mandy-girl! You don’t need to knock!” she cried and stood aside. I smiled and glanced into the living room. My father was in his recliner, the game on as always.

  “Hi Daddy!” I called.

  “Autumn,” he drawled. I sighed. My father always called me by my first name and he sounded dour as he’d done it. I forged ahead anyways,

  “I brought some sample photos and descriptions for the fundraiser, packaging ideas and that sort of thing. I thought maybe while dinner was cooking I could sit down with you and look things over.” I waited, breath held but all he did was grunt noncommittally. I si
ghed and my mother gave me a sympathetic look. We went into the kitchen together, the turkey already in the oven and set about making a modest amount of sides for our small, broken, family of three.

  When everything was in the ovens and the dishes from cooking caught up, washed, dried, and put away, I sat at the kitchen island on the high kitchen stool with the binders and a notepad.

  “Okay Baby, show me what you have.” My mother leaned on the counter and I smiled. I showed her everything I made for the shop or planned to make for the shop in the future. All of the recipes were her parents’, my grandparents’ and my mother’s brown eyes shone with pride. She tucked some of her graying chin length brown hair behind her ears and turned pages, pride written clearly over her features, etched in her smile.

  My mother, unlike me, was small. I think I got my father’s genes when it came to build. I wasn’t quite as tall as him, but I was certainly closer to him in build. We don’t know what recessive gene caused the ginger in me. My dad’s hair was brown like my mother’s and his eyes a pale watery blue. My mother had a light smattering of freckles but not like my riot of them. I took after her in the looks department through and through. Same nose, same ears, same shape of the face. We weren’t one hundred percent on where my hazel eyes had come from either.

  “Hey Daddy, did you want to see these!?” I called.

  “I’m watching the game!” he called back tersely. My mother and I exchanged a look and I rolled my eyes. She put a hand over her mouth and suppressed a laugh. I set the table before the appointed time could arrive and couldn’t help but feel sad that it was only three places I set. I sighed silently, and wondered what Zander was doing for Thanksgiving, and realized he was with the MC along with Evy and Dray. I didn’t think he had any other family. At least I’d never heard of any.

  My mother had put together a beautiful centerpiece of candles and colored leaves to reflect the holiday. The candles were unscented and off white with just a hint of a golden hue. It made me think of almonds for some reason. I dug around in the kitchen junk drawer and found a lighter for the three candles of varying height, lighting them as my mother brought the Turkey out of the oven. I helped her get the bird onto the serving platter and the sides out to the table.