Fractured & Formidable: The Sacred Hearts MC Book V

by Downey, A. J.

  “Daddy! Dinner!” I called and smiled, suffused with a quiet pride at my mother’s accomplishment. The television clicked off in the living room and my father, who was a big man, tall with broad shoulders, lumbered into the living room. He was dressed comfortably in a blue button down shirt and khaki pants. My mother wore a gray pair of slacks and a cream colored blouse. I wore a comfortable pair of fitted jeans and a thick, cream colored cable knit sweater that fell to just above my knees. I’d completed the outfit with a brown belt and brown riding boots and added a brown suede headband to hold back my copper corkscrew curls. I thought I looked quite fashionable for the holiday. Leave it to my father…

  “Jeans? You couldn’t dress appropriately for the holiday? It’s Thanksgiving Autumn.” He was both demanding and chiding in equal measure and I stared at him a moment, wide eyed. My mother, as always tried to draw his fire.

  “Oh goodness Jim, let her be comfortable! I think she looks lovely!” my mother said and plastered a false smile on to her face. It didn’t keep the worry or the fear out of her eyes though. I held my breath to see how he would respond… fifty-fifty as always.

  “Nice spread this year Melinda. You’ve outdone yourself,” he grunted.

  Hallelujah! He picked up the carving knife and fork and my mother and I took our seats and let him portion out the Turkey.

  “Light or dark meat Dear?” he asked my mother.

  “A little of both please?” she smiled up at him with affection and I felt a wistful pang and wondered how on Earth she could do it, after all these years and just… everything. But there it was, she still loved my father.

  “Autumn?” he asked.

  “Light please,” I smiled and asked if he wanted some green bean casserole. He chuckled, actually chuckled and said of course like I knew he would. My mother’s green bean casserole was his favorite. I had ever climbing hopes that this was actually going to be a pleasant experience this time. I mean they did happen, they had just become rare as of late. We made it through the mealtime prayer without any snide or cutting remarks and began to eat our meal.

  “Oh! Mandy! You absolutely must show your father your ideas for the fundraiser packaging! Jim, our daughter has really outdone herself with her new business. You should really be proud of her!” My mother glowed with enthusiasm but it was the wrong choice of words.

  “Woman, you don’t tell me what I should and should not be proud of.” Mom and I both paused.

  “I… I’m sorry…” my mother stammered caught off guard. I closed my eyes. His fist came down on the table.

  “What did I tell you!?” he demanded. We apologize in this house. We don’t say we’re sorry. I’d heard it a million times growing up. My mother and I never understood why my father had something against the phrase I’m sorry but we were almost always corrected to say ‘I apologize’ instead. It was a mark of how flustered my mother was that she’d forgotten such a detail.

  My dad cut into his turkey, sawing into the tender white meat savagely, all the while an endless insulting diatribe issued forth out of his mouth against my mother. My mother, an impossibly sweet woman who despite what an utter asshole my father was, still loved him, still stayed with him and still put up with him. I clenched my teeth as a seething anger took hold, lighting me up from the inside out. My hands, which I kept clenched in my lap, shook with how hard I gripped them and I kept my eyes fixed on my half eaten plate.

  My mother sat across from me meek, and I raised my eyes to meet hers. She shook her head imperceptibly a pleading look in her soulful brown eyes and something inside me just snapped. I stood up abruptly, chair scraping back against the hardwood floor.

  “Sit down!” my father barked and I stared down at him for several heartbeats. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to scream at my mother, I wanted to shake them both and demand of them did they not see how broken this was? How sick and just twisted and wrong our family had become?

  I marched into the kitchen and swept my purse, binders and keys into my arms. My mother and father rose and he reached out to grab my arm as I went for the front door. I wasn’t going to do this, not today! This was utterly ridiculous!

  I didn’t know exactly what had gotten into me. Maybe it was Dray’s talk the last time I had come home from my parent’s. Maybe it was how hard he and Everett both had tried to convince me to spend Thanksgiving with them rather than here. Maybe it was even a little of Zander. It felt like he’d disappeared on me again, and even though I had to admit that he’d left me his number and I hadn’t exactly reached out to him either… Gah! I just bottled all of it up in the same god forsaken bottle and for whatever reason this, now, today was the time and place that particular cork decided to go flying.

  I ripped open the front door, and started down the walkway, my parents hot on my heels.

  “Autumn Amanda Price!” my father shouted and I froze. I turned just in time for him to grab me, shaking me by the shoulders.

  “Get your hands off me!” I shouted at the same time he was screaming something about me being ungrateful and disrespectful. I shouted back, giving no quarter.

  “Me disrespectful! How about you!? Up there preaching God’s word every Sunday but do you actually practice anything that you…” his hand flashed out of nowhere in a wicked open handed backhand that caught me right in the mouth. I let my head snap to the side with the blow. You went with it and it typically left just a red handprint, it’s when you braced against it you got bruised.

  “Jim!” my mother cried, dismayed and jumped back, her eyes fixed over my shoulder. My dad looked up and he turned several shades darker red than he’d already been and I turned too, to see Zander striding up the sidewalk and across our grass the devil’s own fire in his eyes, his car parked down the block, driver’s door swinging wide.

  “Zander no!” I cried dropping my binders to the walk, abandoning them to the grass, I put both hands to his chest and pushed but it was like trying to stop a juggernaut. Once it was in motion… he stopped though, chest heaving and stared my dad down for a minute over my shoulder before turning his eyes on me. My expression must have been frozen into one of sheer desperation because his look softened.

  “Red, you okay Baby?” He cradled my face in his hands, his thumb gently grazing my lip, I jolted at the raw sting of it and his expression darkened. He pointed at my dad.

  “You touch her again I will fucking break you!” Zander snarled. My dad drew himself up to his full height which was taller than Zander, of course, but then again I was taller than Zander. I blinked. Zander was here. On my parent’s front lawn.

  It dawned on me just then and I found myself blurting “Zander! What are you doing here!?”

  He returned those warm brown eyes to mine and his mouth compressed into a thin line. He pulled me into the shelter of his arms, my hands still pressed flat to the slick leather of his motorcycle vest, the name patch that read ‘Revelator’ rough beneath my fingers.

  “I told you, Red, not disappearing on you again.” He gave me a watery version of that devilish grin, the chip in his tooth both endearing and menacing at the same time but he’d lost some of the tightly coiled rage when he’d taken me into his arms.

  “Just who are you!?” my father demanded, Zander turned a rough look in his direction.

  “I’m the guy who’s gonna fuck up your entire world if you ever lay a hand on your kid or your wife again,” he said. My father gave him an imperious look and looked me straight in the eyes before he said:

  “I don’t have a child, Autumn isn’t mine,” I blinked, stupidly.

  My mother gasped horrified and cried out, “Jim!”

  “Baby, Red, get your things sweetheart, we’re leaving,” Zander’s voice was quiet. So serious, the most serious I’d ever heard him as my father and I both stared one another down. I looked at my mom.

  “Mom?” my voice sounded both wounded and unsure. She stared back at me a mix of pity and horror on her lovely face.

  “Mandy, Baby, come on
. Get in your car, we’re leaving,” Zander insisted sharply. Tears coursed down my mother’s face.

  “Come with me,” I said but she shook her head.

  “I can’t.”

  I gave a frustrated sigh, made an inarticulate cry of rage and scooped up my belongings off the grass. I let Zander lead me to my car, my parents looking on. He unlocked and opened the door for me and I got in.

  “Drive to the club,” he ordered. I shook my head.

  “I’m going home.”

  “Please. Red, for me, go to the club. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I looked up into his eyes which were beseeching and nodded. Everett was at the club and I really wanted to see my soul sister. Zander leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a quick chaste kiss and shut the door. I started the car. My father stood where we’d left him, hands balled into fists at his sides. My mother hugging herself, standing just behind him, watching me pull away. Eyes wide, makeup smeared by her tears.

  I didn’t stop, but drove away, leaving Zander on the walk between me and them. A living shield. I glanced at my own completely dry face in the rearview and couldn’t bring myself to even feel sorry for my dad, even knowing what Zander might do. I was surprised to see him say something to my parents, his breath fogging the air, and then turn, The Sacred Hearts emblem larger than life on his back as he trudged up the sidewalk and back to his car.

  Just as he’d promised. He was right behind me.

  Chapter 7

  Zander…

  “You better listen and you better listen good! I swear to fucking Christ, you hurt either of these women again, I’m going to end you old man! You get me? You see if I’m fucking lyin’!” I told him just after Red pulled away. She was fucking outstanding! Didn’t shed a single tear. Tough as nails and I would so be making her mine.

  “Just who the Hell do you think you are!?” her father demanded. I spit on the ground in his direction.

  “I’m the guy that’s gonna marry your daughter,” I said with a shit eating grin and flipped him the double bird before addressing her mother.

  “He touches you, you call Mandy!” I told her and she nodded dumbly, eyes wide and frightened.

  “I mean it!” her head bobbed more rapidly.

  I strode up to my Chevelle and left twin strips of rubber peeling out in front of their house. I wanted Pastor Dickwad to remember me for a while, having a reminder painted in front of his driveway every time he stepped out to go somewhere and every time he came home was as good as any place to leave it, even if what I wanted to do was leave it on his face for him to look at every time he looked in a fucking mirror. Tire tracks would last longer than the bruising but were a lot less satisfying to me. Fucking self-righteous prick!

  I’d trailed Mandy since that morning. Content to spend Thanksgiving with her whether she knew it or not. Stalker status much? Yeah. But also necessary according to my Pres. All the women attached to the club, and by women what I really meant was Ol’ Ladies, had a twenty-four hour detail which really wasn’t saying much considering they were with their men most of the time. I’d straight up assigned myself to Red, when she wasn’t at her shop under guard with Everett anyways. She wasn’t an Ol’ Lady, wasn’t technically a part of the club, but Dray had made things clear as day to me and given me the go ahead to watch her when she wasn’t with Ev or at home, absolving me of any assignments elsewhere so I could do it. Thank God he knew what was what. The girls didn’t. We were keeping all of this on the down low with them.

  I followed Red through streets that were almost eerily deserted because of the holiday until she just pulled over, out of nowhere into an empty grocery store parking lot. I pulled up next to her expecting to see her in some kind of full meltdown. It surprised me when I jumped out of the car to see she was parked, both hands on the wheel, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths as she kept her composure. Damn. Not a single tear. Most girls would be a mess after something like that. I tried her door handle. Locked. She hit the switch and I opened her door.

  “ ‘sup Baby?” I asked her.

  She looked up at me, her face unreadable and set in stone, “I don’t know if I want to go to the club, I don’t know if I want to be around all of those people. I don’t want to have to explain…”

  I fell into a crouch by her open driver’s side door, “Shh, don’t you worry about that Sugar. You just let me do all the talking. Okay?” she locked eyes with me.

  “Why were you there?” she asked.

  “Didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving without you,” I said softly which was the truth; just not all of it. She searched my face.

  “So you parked outside my parent’s house and waited like some kind of creeper?” she asked. I smiled.

  “Actually, I was waiting for you to leave. I brought you flowers, was planning on being some big sappy romantic dope and everything.” Her eyebrows went up.

  “You’re not serious!?” she said. I stood up and opened the passenger door to my car. There, wrapped in white butcher paper was a bouquet of these fierce trumpet shaped flowers in a riot of fiery oranges that reminded me of her curls, nestled between them little white bell shaped flowers… I picked up the flowers and brought them over to her. She sat stunned and I smiled to myself.

  “Lilly of the Valley,” she murmured, smelling the little white blooms. “I don’t understand… lilies aren’t even in season! It’s too cold.” She looked up at me and seemed so lost.

  “Nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Sugar. Found a greenhouse that forces ‘em, dropped a decent bit of cash but it was worth it with the way you’re lookin’ at me right now.” She unhooked her seatbelt, got out of the car and wrapped her arms around me. Then the waterworks started. All that fucking bullshit, her dad backhands her a good one and she fuckin’ cries over some God damned flowers. I held her close and breathed her in.

  “Why would you go through all this trouble!?” she sobbed.

  “Because you’re worth it Red,” and wasn’t that the God’s honest truth?

  “That and I feel like an ass for not getting in touch the first part of this week. I got wrapped up with Trig dealing with the shop and helping Ghost do some heavy lifting. I wanted to show you I wasn’t disappearing again.” She settled down and wiped a few stray tears and I got her to agree to come to the club through a little bit of fast talking. She got back in her car with her flowers and spent a couple minutes fixing her subtle makeup with some shit from her purse before pulling back out onto the route to the club.

  The gate was closed when we got there but one of the new prospects opened her up for us. I’d never seen the lot so full and I was glad that the whole damned holiday didn’t go to waste. Red got out of her car with her purse over one shoulder, flowers grasped in her hand like they were some kind of treasure. Some of the guys were out back popping off rounds, no mistaking that sound. I opened the clubhouse door for her and she went into the common room to several cheers.

  “Hey hey! Look who it is!” Dragon cried. He got up from his place at the table and came up to crush Red into one of his bear hug deals. She squeaked as he lifted her clear off the floor and set her down.

  “Mandy!” Everett called surprised from the doorway, the girls were all coming out with their empty pie plates from somewhere in the back.

  “Yeah, waited outside Red’s parent’s place ‘til they all got done with dinner, had to make sure she saw all her family on the holiday,” I stretched and shot her a wink and she gave me a grateful look. I got the impression she didn’t like to lie and I was more than cool with that, and for lying for her in this particular application.

  “Pretty flowers!” Chandra exclaimed and Mandy beamed at her and nodded.

  “I need to put them in some water.”

  Dray came in from the back and grinned, “Hey you!” he winked at her and she blushed harder. Everett steered her in the direction of the kitchen saying something about water and finding a vase but her steely gaze was fixed on Red’s lip. Good. Hope
fully she would get some ice on it. It wasn’t swelling or bruising, which was good but it did have a small but healthy split in it. Enough to make a visible line to know something went down. I nodded to her and she went with Ev. Dray came over and raised his eyebrows. Dragon looked me over, considering, at his son’s look.

  “She come tearin’ out of the house like her ass was on fire. Her old man grabbed her and is shakin’ her up some but she was givin’ as good as she got. I think she had enough or somethin’, anyways he backhands her and I intervened. Didn’t touch him, couldn’t do that with a fight comin’ up. Gotta stay clean.” I put up my hands. Dray and Dragon exchanged a look.

  The thing about illegal fights is that you can’t go popping off on Joe citizen. That gets you the kind of attention that the underground circuit likes to stay far the fuck away from. If I got arrested, they’d pull my card from the running and truth be told, I needed the fucking cash now that I had no legal means to earn. That meant staying out of trouble so I could get in to trouble. Bass aackwards right?

  “Trust me. I want to take care of it. I want to take care of it bad but between Red and the fights, I got every reason to be a pious little angel.” I gave my Pres. and VP a feral grin and received twins of the same from father and son.

  “Naw, I get you,” Dragon said and patted then gripped my shoulder.

  “Reaver?” Dray asked.

  “Naw! Reaver’s a bit much for this don’t you think?” Dragon asked and Dray lifted his shoulders in a blasé shrug.

  “Not from where I’m standing,” I said dispassionately, Dragon barked a laugh.

  “Yer a cold blooded motherfucker after what you saw him do,” he commented dryly. I gave my president blank face. He nodded.