Ransom: Dead Ringers MC Book 2

by Deja Voss

“Oh, I will definitely give you those!” she says. “I would love to go through them with you. But, we have something else to take care of first.”

  She sets her purse down on the chair and pulls out a little vial of powder.

  “Make sure the door is locked,” she whispers. I walk over and double check the lock on the door, my heart starting to race.

  She grabs a water bottle and takes the powder and mixes it in. “Anita said just like this.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “It’s time to rid this world of this demon once and for all.” Her hands tremble as she grabs a syringe from her purse and hands it to me. “These are some hardcore sleeping pills they gave me after the incident. I got some pain pills from the prospects. Anita told me what kind of anti-nausea medication to get at the drugstore.”

  My stomach knots up and I look over at Stoney. I wonder if he can hear what she’s saying. A sick part of me hopes he can.

  I pop open the syringe and she fills it with some of the concoction. “Anita says we just have to get it in his mouth. Shouldn’t take too much. Nobody will ever know.”

  “You sure you want to do this?” I ask. “It changes you, Pearl. You really want to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder and worrying about getting locked up in jail for murder? Is that really fair to your unborn child?”

  Her eyes light up as she holds the syringe in front of me. “This motherfucker took everything I had from me and pretended like he was the good guy. I get sick thinking about how many times I believed the bullshit he told me about my mom. I get sick thinking about what kind of monster he turned our dad into. If I had my way, I’d beat him to death with a hammer.”

  I know the longer we wait, the more likely it is someone is going to come in this room to check on us. “If you want to do the honors, you can,” I say with a shrug. “I already had my chance.”

  Maybe a thirst for blood runs in our family, or maybe Stoney just genuinely is that fucking evil, but she squirts the first syringe full of the fluid down his throat and begins to reload it without hesitation.

  “Is it gonna hurt?” I ask.

  He doesn’t look like he’s doing much of anything at all. No change in the beeping of the machines hooked up to him, no gasps for air or any movement at all, really. He looks like he’s having a peaceful nap.

  “I fucking hope so,” she says. She hands me the syringe and I part his lips, squirting it in.

  “This is for Anita,” I say, patting him on the cheek. “And for Kid. You had the best family in the world and you did nothing but ruin them.”

  A rattling noise starts rumbling in his lungs and his lips start opening and closing, like a fish out of water, gulping for oxygen.

  “This is for my mother, you fucker,” she says, forcing the next shot of fluid down his throat. “And my sister. I hope when you get to hell they take no mercy on your soul.”

  “Damn girl,” I say with a chuckle. We go back and forth taking turns shooting more and more of the concoction into his mouth. It feels a little pathetic knowing he can’t fight back, but then again, that’s exactly how he spent his life. Dragging the people who loved him into bullshit that they could never fight back against, metaphorically tying them up and slowly killing them.

  When it’s all gone, we both stand at the foot of the bed, just watching. “I’m kinda disappointed he’s not doing anything,” she says. “I thought this would be a lot more exciting.”

  I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I think we probably need to find a different form of sisterly bonding. I do appreciate it, though.”

  Her cellphone dings and she pulls it out of her pocket. “That’s Anita. She’s gonna take us home, now.”

  We both stand there and stare at Stoney for another moment in silence. His lips move and his eyes flutter open, and I really don’t know if he actually has the mental facility to know what he’s looking at, but I like to think that the last thing he saw before he passed over was my sister and I, and I hope it caused him more pain than any gunshot wound ever could’ve.

  As we gather up all our things and start down the long hallway for the last time, I feel like a ton of bricks is being lifted from my shoulders. Maybe it’s because Stoney is finally gone.

  Or maybe it’s because I finally know what it feels like to truly forgive.

  38

  Ransom:

  She hangs her jacket on the hook in the doorway. She doesn’t see me sitting here on the couch with the lights dimmed, and I watch her as she takes off her shoes and hangs her head and sighs. She’s so beautiful, so pure, so perfect.

  She walks into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, cracking it open and chugging it down. She tosses her backpack on the counter and I peek up from behind the couch and clear my throat.

  She damn near jumps out of her skin. “Why do you have to sneak up on me like that?” she squeals, and she starts to crack up.

  “I like watching you,” I say.

  “Were you in on that little situation?” she asks.

  I nod and take her hand in mine. “You feel better?”

  “Well, babe, turns out you are not the father.” Her smile is sad, but I scoop her up in my arms and press my lips to hers.

  “Not yet.”

  I carry her down the hallway to the bathroom, where I lit enough candles that it smells like a perfume factory. Steam is still rolling off the top of the bathtub and she kisses me as I help strip her out of her clothes.

  “Anita already made arrangements,” she says. “Funeral is Tuesday. They’re burning him up as we speak.”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything, love,” I say, taking her by the hand and ushering her over to the bathtub. “Unless you want to.”

  I run a little more water as she steps in, pouring a big blob of bubble bath underneath it until the water is foamy.

  “I want you to come in here with me,” she says. “I want you to hold me.”

  The way she looks up at me with those big dark eyes, I can’t say no. I know I’ll probably have a flood to deal with later, but right now there’s nothing more I want to do than hold my woman.

  I’m so proud of her, I’m beaming from ear to ear. I’m so glad she finally got everything she deserved. And honestly, I’m really fucking relieved I’m not fathering her sister’s baby because at the end of the day, I don’t know how I could ask her to be a part of that situation.

  I take off my shirt and she purrs, running her fingers over my abs. She’s looking at me like she wants to devour me and tonight I’m going to just be here for her. I’m going to let her take total control.

  She knows in her heart I’m hers inside and out,

  She positions herself between my legs, and my cock grows hard just at the feeling of her wet naked flesh on mine. I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tight, holding her as her body relaxes.

  I never in my life imagined I’d have this with anyone. A person who could simultaneously make me feel so big and tough and strong while also being able to reduce me to my most vulnerable. Everything about her makes me feel. I don’t have to shut off my emotions, I don’t have to hide away, with her, I want to experience it all.

  She turns around and faces me. I stare into her eyes, taking her face in my hands. Her eyes look tired but bright, like she knows all the secrets of the world. Maybe she does. Maybe we both do. Maybe all the secrets of the world are whatever this thing we have going on is. Finding your person and doing everything in your power to make up for however much of your life you spent apart.

  Never letting go, no matter what life throws at you.

  Eliminating the noise.

  She lowers herself on my cock, gently rocking her hips back and forth as she clings to my neck. It feels so good, so loving, like between her legs holds all the power and healing in the world. My home. My safe space. Mine.

  I hold her tight as she brings herself to orgasm. I quickly lose it too, the sensation of her pussy gripping and milking my dick enou
gh to get me off. She collapses in my arms and I hug her. I know she’s crying, but I’m not going to push. I’m not going to pry. I’m not going to do anything but be there for her until the water gets cold and we are nothing but pruney skin.

  She doesn’t need to say a word. I help her out of the tub, drying her off with a big fluffy towel. She smiles at me and hugs me close, putting her head right on my heart.

  It’s all hers.

  39

  Ransom:

  I park my bike next to the long row that’s formed in the clubhouse parking lot. I purposely drug my feet this morning, trying to think of any reason I could to get out of coming to Stoney’s wake. It’s all a big farce in my mind, just putting on a show for the other chapters of the Dead Ringers, and at this point, every brother is well aware of that fact.

  I step up onto the porch, the sound of a hundred raucous bikers who I consider my family inside partying, offering their condolences for our dead president in the best way they know how. Anita stands on the porch, dressed in black from head to toe, a cigarette hanging from her lip. I go to her and wrap her in a hug.

  “Twelve more hours and we can put this bullshit to bed,” she whispers in my ear. “What a fucking joke.”

  I guess the only saving grace is the fact she had him cremated pretty much immediately after his passing, not that anybody would question why an old comatose guy died in his sleep. It saves us all the drama of having to look at his dead body sprawled out in a coffin. We can all move on from ever having to look at that man again.

  “Where’s your old lady?” she asks.

  “She didn’t think it would be appropriate to come,” I say. “She didn’t want to cause any drama.”

  “Well, I am jealous,” Anita says with a laugh.

  “You and me both. I’m gonna go inside and do a lap. Let me know if you need anything.”

  As soon as I walk in the door, somebody puts a beer in my hand. The room feels more alive than it has in a long time. It’s been ages since we rallied, feels like a lifetime ago all our chapters got together for any reason. Stoney had us so detached from the club these last few years, I almost forgot what it was like to be a part of the brotherhood. These men and old ladies are our family, and the fact that they traveled from all over the country to show their respects makes me happier than I care to admit. I do wish Annabella was here so I could show her off, show her how much love she’s a part of now, show all these guys how I’m the luckiest man on the planet, but I have a feeling the future is going to bring a lot more of this. Now that we’re out from under Stoney’s thumb, the Erie chapter of the Dead Ringers MC is going to be more connected than we ever were before. That’ll be my first mission.

  I can tell Romeo is in his element, waving his arms wildly as he tells a story to a group of guys from Pittsburgh and they all crack up. Feels good to see him laughing easy again, smiling, not looking over his shoulder. I pat him on the back, and he stops what he’s doing and hugs me. “Where’s Annabella?” he asks.

  “You’re the second person who’s asked me that. What am I? A piece of shit?”

  “Well she smells a lot better than you do,” he says with a laugh. “She’s one of us now. She’s always welcome here.”

  I make my way through the crowd, talking to guys I forgot even existed, shaking hands and kissing old ladies, trying to keep a straight face while I accept their condolences. If only they knew what we knew. If they had any idea the kind of shit Stoney did to tear this club apart, they wouldn’t be here ‘celebrating his life.’

  Driller and Pearl are sitting at a table with Vegas, who I haven’t seen in almost a year. I go over and join them, grabbing a seat next to Driller.

  “Holy shit, Ransom,” Vegas says, slapping my hand. “It’s been a long time.”

  “We miss you, brother. How’s nomad life treating ya?”

  “I appreciate having an excuse to come back to home base, that’s for sure,” he says. He doesn’t look so great, a lot skinnier and scrappier than I remember. “What’s this about an old lady?”

  “Good to see you, too.” I laugh and tap my beer to his. “Only thing missing is Kid. Would’ve been nice if we could’ve busted him out for the day.”

  Driller nods and stares down at the table. I know he’s taking all this a lot different than the rest of us, but Stoney was his uncle. Trying to make peace with blood versus brotherhood has fucked him up. His dad ain’t much better off, either.

  “Where’s your dad?” I ask, scanning through the crowd.

  “He hasn’t got out of bed since he found out the news. Pearl and I went to the house today and tried to get him up, but he wasn’t having it. I don’t know what’s gonna happen with him, man. It’s fucking sad.”

  “I know,” I say. “He’s not an idiot, though. Let him do what he’s gotta do to mourn. He’ll be back in the saddle in no time.”

  I can tell by the sad look in Driller’s eyes he knows the words coming out of my mouth are straight bullshit. I have no idea where Old Nasty is going to fit into our equation anymore. He never did anything bad to me personally, but you have to wonder how much he really knew this whole time. You have to wonder what ends he went to to keep his blood brother’s secrets.

  “Why didn’t you bring Annabella?” Pearl asks, sipping her water bottle. You can tell she wants to be here about as much as I do. I can’t imagine the smoke filled clubhouse is good for the baby, and knowing what part she played in all this is probably making her extra uncomfortable every time she sees somebody standing by Stoney’s urn crying and praying.

  There’s so many people packed in this place, it takes my brain a minute to notice the woman dressed in the tight black mini dress hovering at our table.

  “Hey boys,” she says with a wave. Her mascara is all fucked up and running down her face. I roll my eyes. Driller snorts.

  “Get the fuck outta here, Carley,” Pearl says. “Nobody here wants to hear your bullshit.”

  I stand up from the table and walk over to my ex girlfriend, looking her in the eye for the first time since that night I caught her cheating on me. I thought when I confronted her I’d be angry, or maybe I’d be sad. I really didn’t know how I was going to react, but I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  “Ransom, we need to talk. I know I fucked up big time, but I’ve been working on myself. I went back to school, I started going to AA, I’m doing everything I can to get my shit straight.”

  “I’m happy for you,” I say. “I really am.”

  “Do you want to maybe go outside?” she asks.

  “I don’t,” I say, and I’ve never meant anything more in my life other than every time I tell Annabella how much I love her. There’s nothing in the world that would make me want to go anywhere near this woman ever again.

  “Just so you know, I regret what I did every day of my life. I hate myself for it. It makes me sick just thinking about it. I fucked up. I should’ve never hurt you like that.”

  “Babe, you did me a huge favor,” I say. “Now it’s time to move along.”

  She stares at me with a sad pout on her face, and I turn and go back to my seat at the table. I don’t know if she’ll ever change, or if she just sees the writing on the wall, but that isn’t my problem anymore. She’s a free woman, and I’ve found my freedom in my devotion to Annabella, and I wouldn’t want my life to be any other way.

  “That was very mature of you,” Vegas says. “What the fuck happened to you man?”

  “None of us can say for certain,” Driller says with a laugh, “But there’s a good possibility his old lady is carrying his balls around in her purse.”

  “As she should be,” Pearl says, punching him in the shoulder.

  Everything seems to go silent and time slows down the moment Old Nasty steps into the room. His t-shirt is wrinkled and his long hair matted to the back of his head, like he rolled out of bed and grabbed a handful of clothes out of the hamper, but I guess that’s a possibility considering the circumstances.

/>   Driller gets up and goes over to him, but as soon as he starts talking, Old Nasty pushes him away and bellies up to the bar, pounding his fist and demanding shots. We watch as he slams down the whiskey and has Gwen give him the whole bottle.

  “I mean, at least he left the house,” I say with a shrug. “At least he’s here with people who care about him.” I don’t know if he heard me or if he’s just drunk and trying to focus his eyes, but I swear he’s sneering at me. A chill runs down my spine. For a split second I wonder if maybe things aren’t about to get better, and maybe he’s going to pick up right where Stoney left off, but as soon as Romeo walks over to him, the two start laughing and cutting jokes, and I just shrug and turn my attention back to the table.

  I know there’s a lot of chaos going on around us, and normally I’d be the one throwing myself right up in there, but today I have no interest in that. I’m perfectly content just sitting here sipping on my beer with Driller, Pearl, and Vegas, and counting down the minutes until I can go home and be with my woman. I don’t know if this is growing up or just moving on, the reality that sometimes you don’t have to run away to leave a situation. Sometimes you just have to ride it out. It’s like I finally feel this laser focus on everything that truly matters to me, and Annabella was the knob I needed to be able to turn the noise from the outside down.

  We don’t even need to talk about much, because I feel like the four of us at this table know, greater things are coming. This is just decoration. A period at the end of a lifetime sentence of hell underneath Stoney’s rule. We’re on the edge of salvaging what’s left of this club and building it into a real family with real strength and integrity.

  The sun starts to set and the music gets louder. People filter out, and people filter in, and I know it’s about time for me to head home.

  Pearl and Driller have the same idea, and we walk around saying our goodbyes. I tell Vegas he’s more than welcome to crash on my couch while he’s in town if he doesn’t feel like staying in his old room, but he decides to ride it out. Back in the day, I would’ve done the same thing myself. Funeral bitches are the easiest kind of bitches. Anything goes when you’re a Dead Ringer with a heart full of grief.