Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas

by Natasha Thomas

  I still suffer night terrors and flashbacks. I still wake up in cold sweats, screaming. And some days I struggle to get out of bed, so much so, I don’t. But my therapist, Doctor Jennings says this is normal for survivors of violent crimes. He assures me that victims of assault often display symptoms ranging from mild to severe PTSD, anxiety, depression, and in some cases even body image issues.

  Fuck, I hate that word, though. Victim. It makes me feel weak. Helpless. Like a child, which I’m not. I’m a twenty-six-year-old woman – my birthday was a week and a half ago, hip, hip, hooray for me. The last thing I want to feel is weak and pathetic. Hence, me making it perfectly clear to my therapist that I wouldn’t be returning if he continued to refer to me as such.

  It had taken three months before I was willing to talk to anyone about what had happened to me while I was held captive by those animals, but when I did gather the courage, I have to admit it felt good. It felt like I was taking some of my power back. By talking about it, I wasn’t allowing them to dictate to me how to feel.

  Looking back over the past six months, I know within myself I’ve changed. Not only my outlook on life – which has become a lot more live and let live – but I’ve made a good deal of subtle changes too.

  Firstly, while Blaine and I still live together, I’m weaning myself off relying on her and only her for support. I started going to a survivors support group the hospital just outside Furnace hold every Thursday, and through there I’ve met some really cool people I enjoy hanging out with from time to time. Not every day, not even once a week, but, at least, once or twice a month I catch up with some of them outside of the group setting.

  Secondly, I’m trying really hard to let people in. It was an automatic defense mechanism for me to shut down, and this included shutting people out. It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, it was a subconscious act of self-preservation. But I’m working on that now.

  My Mom and Dad hated that they weren’t the ones to break through with me. Blaine hated it more. And part of me can understand why. They had been by my side every minute of every hour since Boss brought Beth and I home, and I saw the undisguised guilt and pain on their expression when they first got a good look at me.

  I’m not sure, but maybe that was part of the reason why I couldn’t talk to them first. I needed to be in the right headspace to answer their questions and withstand their pity-filled gazes. So, I sought out the one person I knew would understand what it felt like to be in my position. The one person who could sympathize with where I was at, and hopefully, help me start in the right direction of recovery. Adelyn.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~ Avery ~

  Life’s a bitch. Oh, wait. That’s just you. Or maybe it’s me. Oh, who cares. Wanna be friends?

  - Text from Avery to Bella

  Adelyn came into my life before I was old enough to walk, and has played a big part in it ever since.

  When I was younger, I used to think it was strange that she was the first person to put her hand up and offer to watch the kids when the club had something going. As I got older, heard more, saw more, and opened my eyes to the unconcealed pain on her face when Ade looked at the little kids, I got it.

  I was about fourteen years old the first time I asked Ade about why she and Uncle Reaper never had any kids together. I mean, I get she’s years younger than he is, not to mention, Uncle Reaper has a grown son, Steel, but I was always curious why Ade hadn’t pushed to have one of their own.

  Adelyn’s story was heartbreaking. Literally, it physically pained me having to hear about the two children she had lost and how. I hated that had happened at all, but moreover, I hated it happened to her.

  If there’s one woman who deserves nothing but happiness and sunshine, it’s Adelyn. And while I know Reaper adores her - he shows her just how much in everything he does – I can’t help but feel cheated for her. She has so much love to give, so much beauty and wisdom she could have shared with the world through a child.

  In some ways she has, I suppose. Nick, one of Adelyn’s clients at the tattoo shop Reaper, owns visited Blackwater – where I lived until I moved here and where Devil’s Spawn MC’s mother chapter is located – under the guise of wanting a tattoo done by her. With him came his two much younger siblings seeing as their Mom was a junkie, crack whore and couldn’t be trusted to look after them.

  Harsh? I think not. If I told you half of the things she did to those precious babies, you’d want to gut her like a stuck pig at a hog roast too.

  To cut a long story short, Nick along with his seven-year-old brother, Cody, and four-year-old sister, Emmaline came to Blackwater for what was supposed to be a day and never left. This could have something to do with Ade taking one look at the three of them in their malnourished, poorly clothed state and demanding they take up residence in her and Reaper’s spare bedrooms, but don’t quote me on that.

  Months and one particularly nasty visit Reaper paid to Nick’s Mom, several lawyer’s appointments and two stamped court orders later, Reaper and Adelyn were now officially Emmaline’s caregivers. Kendall and Cage – son to Devil’s Spawn’s VP at the time but now president – were given custody of Cody shortly after.

  There was a lot of speculation as to why Reaper and Ade didn’t take in both children, and I have to admit, for a while there I wondered too. My Dad later explained to me that the adults had left it up to Cody to decide with whom he wanted to live and after talking to his older brother, Nick, Reaper, and Cage, Cody decided he wanted to grow up with a brother his own age.

  That’s not to say he forgot about his little sister, he didn’t. Emmaline living with Ade and Reaper had no bearing on how close the two of them are. Growing up less than a mile apart, going to the same schools, seeing each other at family gatherings, and the clubhouse almost daily meant they remained close, and to this day still are.

  Well, aside from the fact, Emmaline ended up falling in love with Cage and Kendall’s son. The same son that was like a brother to, Cody. Let’s just say, that was a most interesting love affair to watch play out.

  But, in the land of rainbows, lollipops, and love, all is well. Emma and Wheels – Cage’s son, Kane – are very much together. As in, they’re married and expecting the arrival of their first little one in May – four months from now.

  Anyway, I digress.

  My relationship with Adelyn has been different from most of the other kids who grew up after she came to live in Blackwater. While she has always been sweet, kind, compassionate, and funny, she and I had a deeper bond. I don’t know what it is about her, but I’ve always been drawn to her. I can’t even put into words why – something about her just calls to me.

  So, since Adelyn’s history – something she shared without censor with me one night while I was recuperating – shared similarities with my own ordeal, it isn’t a stretch that I’d pick her to be my confidant.

  Mostly, I just talked and she listened. She rubbed my back, held my hand, and gave me nods of encouragement when she thought I needed them, but for the most part, she listened quietly.

  It was what she said at the end of my tear-filled confession that has stuck with me and started me down the path of actually healing. Not the pretend crap I was doing while lying in bed wallowing in self-pity, but real, honest to goodness healing.

  “You know there’s no right or wrong way to deal with this, don’t you honey?”

  I didn’t answer her, I couldn’t so I just gave her a small nod in response. My face was not only swollen from the beating I took, but my eyes were puffy from crying, my cheeks stung from my tears, and my head was pounding.

  “Everyone has a different breaking point, Avery. You found yours and did the right thing asking for help. Not everyone is that strong, sweetie. Trust me, if it wasn’t for those men out there,” she said signaling to the door, “I would never have made it. They saved me when I wasn’t strong enough to save myself. Lean on them, Avery. Let them shoulder some of your pain. They’ve got big, broad shoul
ders, and they want to be there for you. Every man and woman in the clubhouse and beyond want to help you through this, you’ve just got to let them.”

  “How?” I stuttered through a fresh round of tears.

  “It’s easy. You just open the door and let them come to you. You don’t have to talk, just let them sit with you, speak to you, see that you’re okay. Baby steps, Avery. But I want you to promise me something? If it gets too hard or too dark inside, you’ll call me. It doesn’t matter where I am, I can be here in a couple of hours to help you find your way again.”

  I nod again before Ade goes on to add,

  “I was a different type of prisoner, Avery, but nevertheless, I was as trapped as you were. But it isn’t the physical walls of the prison you live in, or your body’s inability to cooperate when you desperately need to escape that’s the worst part of an experience like the one you went through. It’s when your mind retreats to that dark, helpless, fear-riddled place that’s worse. Rationally it’s easy to look around you and see the familiar comforts of home, watch the people who love you come and go, but in the darkness, when the lights go out, is when the memories come flooding back. I still have them you know? I can still remember what it feels like to be scared and alone like I’ll never be free. I remember the pain, the desperation, the vulnerability, and I think I always will. But what makes me strong isn’t that I survived, it’s that I don’t let them overwhelm me like I used to. I know when to ask for help when it’s too much to cope with alone. I recognize my triggers, what will send me back to that place and avoid them at all costs. But what made the most difference, what really helped me start to recover was learning how to trust again. That’s the hardest part of all. Learning that there are people out there worthy of your trust, your love, your faith. You’re not ready yet, but you’ve made the first step by talking to me. Now, you’ve just got to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Take your time, sweetie. Like I said before, there’s no right or wrong way to do this. But remember, we love you. All of us.”

  That was my first step, one of many I’ve taken since that night which sometimes feels like it was years not months ago. I’m still a work in progress, but that’s okay. I’ve come to accept that. I might take years, maybe even decades, but I’ll get there one day. One day I’ll be willing to trust again.

  Snapping her fingers in front of my face, Bella furrows her eyebrows asking,

  “Hello? Anyone home? Earth to space cadet central, are you in there?”

  Swatting at her hand, I hiss,

  “Jesus. Can you be more obnoxious?”

  “I’m not sure, do you want me to try and you can let me know how I do?”

  I can’t say at this juncture I do seeing as I have no doubt Bella will give it her all, which is precisely what I tell her.

  “I think I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer. Now, why are you clicking at me like I’m a freaking dog?”

  “Ah,” she says like duh. “Because you spaced out in the middle of me telling you the colossal dickweed has ridden back into town.” Tapping her fingernails on the countertop, she adds, “And because there is no way in hell your response to me telling you this can be limited to, ‘that’s nice’ so what gives? I’ve listened to you rant about him over tequila and ice creams, so I know you’re holding out on me and I want to know why?”

  “How do you want me to react, Bell?” I say, pushing my half-eaten waffles aside. Damn her for ruining my binge. “He was eventually going to come back, you know it and so do I. His brothers are here, his club. He freaking lives here. Look,” I huff, lowering my voice. “Furnace mightn’t be a big town, but it’s not small either. We can both co-exist here without having to see each other every day. He left and didn’t call, so what? He doesn’t owe me anything, and even though he made promises, I think they were meant more to give me peace of mind that anything else. It was sweet. He was just being kind, so leave it okay?”

  I should have known better. Bella isn’t one to let things go easily, especially not when it comes to her second best friend in the world. I might hold the first position on her friend ranking scale, but Fury, who she’s known since he moved to Furnace when he was twenty-three holds second.

  Narrowing her eyes at me dangerously, she leans forward over the counter until our faces are only inches apart.

  “You might want to leave it, but you’ve got no hope in hell I’m going to. When he left, he didn’t just leave you, Avery, he left me too. I haven’t heard a word from him in months, not once. He didn’t return my calls or texts to let me know he was safe. He knew I’d worry about his ass, I always have. After Rosalie had died, Fury took off for a few months. Did he tell you that?”

  Shaking my head, I reply,

  “Not that I can recall, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It just means I can’t remember if he did or not.”

  “Well, he did,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fury did what Fury does. He took off and didn’t tell another living soul where he was going. It wasn’t until Boss threatened his patch that he showed up, and when he did, he was different. Completely different. Gone was the guy I used to laugh with about the stupid chicks who always run up the stairs in horror movies. Gone was the man who smiled all the time. He was a shell of the man who left. Sure, he was bigger, bulkier, had put on a good thirty pounds of muscle, but he was a shadow of his former self. Fury barely spoke when he came back, and that hasn’t changed. He was rougher around the edges, broodier, angrier, but he was back so I overlooked all that just happy my friend was home.”

  “That’s to be expected, Bell. He lost his wife, the woman he loved. You can’t think he’d be the same after that,” I try to reason with her patiently.

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” She replies cryptically. “I know he loved, Rosalie, anyone could see that, but it wasn’t losing her that changed him. After weeks of him being back and ignoring me, I cornered him when he was drunk off his ass and wouldn’t let him leave until he told me what his damage was. Fury’s problem wasn’t losing his wife, Avery. It was that he wasn’t destroyed because of it.”

  That doesn’t make any sense. The few times I’ve mentioned, Rosalie’s name, Fury has shut down any and all conversation immediately as if the pain of talking about her is too much to bear. What Bella’s saying and what I’ve seen don’t match up, so I answer,

  “I don’t get it. Everyone can see how much it hurts him to talk about her.”

  “Yeah, and it does, hurt him that is,” she nods. “But he’s not damaged because of it. Not the way Boss would be if he lost Beth, or like Emily was when she lost her first love. Not even the way my Mom was when dad walked away for the last time, and he was an abusive wife-beating asshole. Fury mourned Rosalie, but when the time came, he was able to put him behind her in the past where she belonged. That’s what eats at him.”

  “But that’s insane,” I exclaim in a quiet yell.

  “It might be, but that doesn’t make it any less true,” Bella adds sagely. “Like I said, Fury loved Rosalie, but it was always as if there was something reserved about it. He was affectionate with her, but it was almost as if he was holding himself back. She didn’t come to the clubhouse often, and she didn’t hang with the other old ladies like most of the women did. When she was there, it was like it was because she had to be, not wanted to be. I might not have known a lot about marriage and long-term relationships, I was only twenty-two, but I know there was something strange about theirs.”

  “Strange how?” I question, intrigued.

  Shrugging her shoulders, Bella goes on to explain,

  “I can’t put my finger on it, but it was kind of like Fury was pretending to be someone he wasn’t for her. Like he was one man with the club, and another outside of it if that makes sense.”

  “Mmhmm,” I mumble non-committedly because it really doesn’t.

  “Let’s put it this way. Have you ever seen Boss and Beth in the same room when she isn’t attached to his side li
ke a Siamese twin, or on his lap like a leg warmer?” She asks.

  Thinking about it, no, I haven’t.

  “Ah, that would be a negatory,” I quip.

  “Exactly,” Bella exclaims with a flourish. “Fury and Rosalie weren’t like that. He held her hand, sat her next to him but with inches of space between them, and he never kissed or hugged her. Well, not in front of anyone that is. It was weird. All the guys in the club are touchy-feely. Whether it’s with the hang around’s, the women they bring back for the night, or their old ladies, they’re always physically demonstrative with them, but not Fury. He showed more emotion toward the club’s Cactus which died from lack of care two days after someone bought it than he did toward his wife. So, you tell me? If that doesn’t scream strange, I don’t know what does.”

  I mull that over for a moment before replying,

  “Sure, it’s odd, but I don’t think you can assess someone’s relationship based on what you’ve seen at a few club parties. Apparently, he loved her or he wouldn’t have married her. Maybe she was shy or didn’t like PDA. But whatever reason he wasn’t all over her, I don’t think that’s an iron clad reason to deem their relationship weird, Bell.”