by Addison Jane
I nodded. “I get it.” I looked over my shoulder. “Brooklyn,” I called and within a couple of seconds, she’d appeared in the doorway. Her shoulders were slumped and even from where I was I could see her shaking. This wasn’t the girl I’d gotten to know over the past few days. There was no sass, no confidence, no snarky comments. This was the girl who’d run out of the Exiled Eight clubhouse crying as she leaped on Kennedy, refusing to let her go for hours. She was just a young girl, in a bad situation, who was scared, and needed her sister to make things better.
“You gonna get in or not?” Kennedy teased, patting the bed beside her.
Brooklyn’s eyes went to me first like maybe she was surprised I was giving up this with Kennedy so they could have their time together. But she shouldn’t be. I’d always make sure Brooklyn didn’t feel like I was forcing her out.
It only took a couple of seconds before she was rushing to the bedside and crawling carefully across the king-size monster. Each movement she made with trepidation, telling me that she’d done this a million times before, until she wiggled her body in under Kennedy’s arm, snuggling close to her.
A soft sniffle had me backing away allowing the girls their time.
I stood at the bedroom door for just a moment, leaning against the frame with my arms folded across my chest. I couldn’t go another fucking day without doing something. I was apprehensive given that Kennedy had spent such a long time feeling like she was owned by someone, and I’d never wanted that to be what this was.
She’s the first person ever who had made me feel like I needed their touch. I was okay before with the idea that I could go the rest of my life and never feel that again simply because it caused me too much pain, but now, I was resenting that part of me, resenting that part that had been damaged.
Someone hadn’t just stolen that from me.
Someone had now effectively stolen this from me too.
It wasn’t that I wanted it for myself, but I wanted it for her. I wanted to be able to show her the level of fucking caring and intimacy that she deserved to feel, especially after so many fucking years of the only touch she felt being pain.
Satisfied that for now Kennedy had everything she needed, I turned and walked down the hallway shutting the door at the end which separated the bedrooms from the rest of the apartment space.
“How is she?” Meyah asked instantly as I made my way to the kitchen. She held up a glass. “What’s your poison?”
“Just give me a beer,” I grumbled, standing at the counter and pressing both my hands against it and letting my head hang.
“How are they?” Shotgun asked, leaning back against the counter and crossing one leg over the other. I guess I wasn’t the only one who had noticed how what happened tonight had impacted Brooklyn as well as Kennedy.
Meyah pushed the glass of beer under my face, and I grabbed it, throwing back half the glass before placing it back on the counter. “They’re just going through the motions again. Because you know what fucking kills me? This is like just another day for them. Kennedy got beaten up again, no surprises there. Well actually, one surprise… I wasn’t there to fucking protect her like I said I would. Like this whole fucking thing has been about.”
“Don’t work yourself up about it,” Meyah ordered as she picked up the bottle of orange juice and started to pour herself a glass. “Look, when we get involved with the club, it’s a choice we have to make. Can we handle this?”
Dakota nodded as she slipped into the kitchen behind her friend and reached for the vodka. “We know that this could happen at any time. You guys have people who don’t like you, who want to hurt you, who don’t agree with the club life. And then when shit really hits the fan, at times like these, we know that there’s a possibility we could get hurt.”
“You guys can’t watch us all day every day, and believe me when I say if you tried, I would fucking kill someone.” Meyah narrowed her eyes at her old man who just rolled his and took a sip from his glass. “It all comes with the territory, and it all comes with being an old lady.”
Shake cleared his throat and stood up. “But there lies the problem. Things would be different today if that had of been the case. Romeo could have acted differently. But she ain’t your old lady.”
Those words, they were like a fucking stab in the guts.
But I was about to fucking change them. “Yeah well, I’m about to change that.”
No one was surprised, but they all still grinned any fucking way. Which made the announcement not so fucking exciting. Even my stomach was twisting about it, and I was about to let them know something else. “I can’t tell her that yet, though. You tell the boys, but you also tell them to shut their mouths ‘bout it.”
Meyah’s face dropped a little. “Are you sure about that?”
I downed the rest of my glass and nodded. “I need to protect her, but I’m not sure just how on-board she’d be right at this moment about me putting this claim or this ownership over her. She’s already spent a lot of time being a piece of property and not a human being. As far as I’m concerned, and as far as the club is concerned, she’s mine.”
Ripley snorted. “Brother, I’m happy for you and all that shit, but can you let me know when you decide to tell her that little bit of information because I can’t wait to see her kick you in the fucking balls.”
There was a collective round of laughter, but I didn’t even fucking care. Kennedy was one in a fucking million—actually strike that, she was one in fucking forever for me.
I was willing to risk her damaging my manhood further down the line if it meant not freaking her out right now and forcing her to run.
The door to the hallway clicked, and it pushed open, but just as I was about to order my woman back to bed, Brooklyn stepped out. She was still curled in on herself and had her hands tucked inside the sleeves of her hoodie. She blinked several times at the bright lights, and I noticed the way her eyes were bloodshot and red.
“You want a drink, kid?” I asked, knowing I shouldn’t given that she was only fucking seventeen, but fuck it.
She nodded without a second thought. “Yeah.”
I looked over, and Meyah who just shrugged, poured her a beer. Meyah and Shake had been together for years. Since she was eighteen. It wasn’t like she could object to underage drinking. No one in that apartment could. We all knew she was in a safe place and God fucking knows she looked like she could use one.
Everyone else floated toward the large living area, giving us a little space so they weren’t lurking or listening, I think getting the same vibe I was getting, that she’d come out here with something she needed to say.
With us alone in the kitchen, she came closer and took the glass, swallowing a couple of large gulps of the amber-colored liquid before taking a breath. It was safe to say this wasn’t her first beer. “Kennedy fell asleep.”
“The doctor gave her some stuff for the pain that would have knocked her out pretty quick,” I explained, seeing the somewhat worried look on her face. “Whatever you need to say, go ahead and say it. You don’t have to be scared to speak your mind around here.”
She took another drink of her beer, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and placing the glass down. “If you aren’t serious about her, just leave now.”
I raised my eyebrow. If only she knew what I’d just been saying.
When I didn’t respond, she kept talking, finding her feet a little bit within this need to fight for her sister and standing a little taller, looking me directly in the eye. “I’m thankful you helped us get away from Red Riot. I knew that Crow was never going to let us leave, even with this stupid contract that Kenz seemed to think said that we could. But neither of us really need someone who’s going to be like a rock, only to leave, or disappear, or be ripped away like every fucking other person.”
“Brooklyn, believe me when I say that I care about Kennedy, and because you’re important to her, I care about you, too. Whether you like that or not. And I
ain’t going nowhere. It’s early, we’re still getting to know each other, but I have every intention of keeping her in my life and protecting the both of you with mine.”
Brooklyn nodded, but I wasn’t exactly sure she completely believed me. She’d been tainted, she’d spent so long with no one to trust but each other, and now I was threatening that.
Brooklyn quickly finished the rest of her beer. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect my sister,” she informed me, sliding the glass around the marble countertop. “I won’t let the same thing happen again, and up until now, she’s done things that you couldn’t even fucking imagine to protect me. But I’m older now, and if it comes down to it, I’ll do even more to protect her.”
The threat was right there. She was serious as hell, at least, I think she thought she was.
She was still young, but I didn’t doubt that if push came to shove, she might come after me in my sleep.
I just nodded. “I hear you.”
She nodded back acknowledging our mutual understanding. “Good. Because I give you three strikes, and after what happened today, you’re already down to two.”
With that, she turned on her heel and walked back to the bedrooms shutting the door quietly behind her.
“Um… did the kid just, in not so many words, tell you she was gonna kill you?” Myth asked with a wide grin on his face, the rest of them all looking at me the same.
“I think she might have.”
He nodded, letting out a small laugh. “I think I might like having her around.”
KENNEDY
Brooklyn was asleep on the back seat. My body was sore, uncomfortable, and achy, so thankfully, Meyah offered to drive with Brooklyn and me the almost five-hour trip back to Phoenix.
The long desert highways were kind of calming as I chatted with Meyah about things to do with the new baby. She was so excited, and she beamed about how Shake couldn’t wait to be a dad.
“Do you think you’ll have the baby at the clubhouse?” I asked curiously, wondering how that would work. I couldn’t imagine it myself, but I’d learned over the past few weeks that the way I perceived clubs happened to be a little different.
“There are some apartments just down the road from the clubhouse,” she explained, her hand unconsciously settling on her stomach as she drove. “The club is looking at buying and renovating them for when the boys all start to have kids. It’s not that you can’t have kids at the clubhouse, my uncle raised my niece at the clubhouse in Alabama, but they often prefer to have their own space when they start families.”
I nodded, that made more sense. “With what you guys have done with the clubhouse and the developments and shit, I can only imagine what you could do with some rundown apartments.”
Meyah explained when we were staying with the Exiled Eight that the club owned a building company where her eldest brother was the CEO. They had helped the club change the old run-down mechanics workshop into a place that almost rivaled a five-star hotel with a huge kitchen and dining area, a bar, games area, meeting rooms and offices, and twenty bedrooms each with their own bathrooms. Not to mention the still-connected workshop where it seemed like the boys had plenty of work on their hands.
The Exiled Eight, they were a company that was in demand, and they did damn good work.
Not to mention her brother, Drake, wasn’t just the CEO, but was also a fully-fledged member of the club, and he was trying his best to help bridge the bias about bikers.
The bias that I once had.
I turned my head, laying it back against the headrest and allowing my eyes to drift closed. They were heavy. The sun warmed the car, the rays coming in the windscreen directly onto my arms and my lap. It felt good, hot, but good. The Arizona sun was no joke.
I knew a lot of people didn’t like this kind of heat, but I thrived on it. I loved to feel warm, and I would take that any day over feeling even the slightest chill. Warmth was comforting to me, it was soothing. Whether it came from the heat of another person, or a soft, fluffy blanket, or the sun’s rays, it didn’t matter. It calmed my soul.
I couldn’t help but smile and turned to look out Meyah’s driver’s side window, the deafening rumble of two bikers roaring up beside us and holding there for a few seconds. Just long enough for Repo to look over and catch my eye. He gave me one nod, Shake doing the same for Meyah, who just rolled her eyes, before the boys both revved their engines again and quickly pulled ahead of us.
Goddamn, what were these emotions?
What was it about this man?
He made me feel at peace. Something over the years that I wasn’t even sure if I would remember how to feel. I’d spent so long living in fear, constantly being a protector, always fighting just to get through each day without shutting down or giving up.
I’d forgotten what it was like to have someone finally stand for me, fight for me. Even against myself.
The last person who fought for me was my mom.
I took another deep breath and closed my eyes. I guess I fell asleep because when I opened my eyes, we were back within a city, and I looked over just in time to see the most beautiful building flash by. Two tall towers on either side with perfectly round stained glass windows, and two staircases leading up to the front doors.
“Woah!” I coughed sleepily, startling Meyah for a second. “The church back there, can we go?”
She turned her head just slightly, looking back at the direction I was talking about. “Uhh, sure?” I could hear the trepidation and uncertainty in her voice, and see the confused frown across her brow as she pulled off the road. “Why?”
“Please.”
I couldn’t actually answer her question. I wasn’t sure why the urge to go inside that building was pounding in my chest and making my legs itchy. I’d seen my fair share of churches. I’d been inside one every Sunday growing up, holding hands with my sister, and listening to my mother play the organ. I’d helped her set up the pews and hand out programs and watched wedding after wedding after wedding as a fascinated young girl obsessed with the beauty and sophistication of a bride who wore white on her wedding day.
When I was that age, I always envisioned the white dress that I would wear, and how the aisle would be decorated as I walked down it. And at the end, I just knew I’d see my future husband with tears in his eyes.
Now?
It was like a bad joke.
Me in a white dress.
Meyah went around the block, no doubt confusing the four bikers who were following us, probably tired and ready to get back to the fucking clubhouse and stretch their limbs.
Meyah pulled up around the side of the church, and put the car in park with the boys each pulling up beside us, even the thunderous rumble of their rides seeming to become more questioning and cautious as they came to a complete stop.
“Are you gonna light a candle?” Brooklyn asked from the back seat as she took off her seatbelt.
She knew me instantly. Brooklyn and I weren’t religious per se, but we’d spent a lot of time with the church when Mom was around. It wasn’t exactly something we’d decided to continue to do when Mom died because we didn’t really think of it as a part of us or who we were. But it was a part of her. And it was something that she loved. That was what we loved about it.
When she died, we went to visit some of her friends in California, and they took us to a church there and explained to us what it meant to light a candle for someone. It was a way of remembering her, saying a prayer for her. The idea I fell in love with, so if we ever get to visit another city now, we always find a Catholic church and light a candle for my mom.
We climbed out and looked up at the beautiful old building, Brooklyn’s and my mouth both hanging open. Each church was different, each had a different feeling, a different exterior.
“We going to confession or some shit?” Shake asked, taking off his helmet and climbing off his bike, stretching his arms up over his head and letting out a satisfying groan.
Repo
walked around the car to where Brooklyn and I were standing. “What is this?”
“We’re gonna go in and light a candle,” I explained simply. “I’ve never seen a church this big anywhere near us, and we try to do it whenever we are somewhere new.”
He nodded but didn’t comment.
“You wanna come in?”
“I don’t do church,” he answered, his response sharp and to the point, almost with a little disgust at my question.
I laughed for a second and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know, bikers in church. Is it gonna burn down around you, and—”
“Kennedy, just go and do it, so we can go,” Myth cut in, none of the boys seeming to find my little bit of humor anywhere near humorous. They all watched Repo carefully like at any moment he was going to lose his shit.
Brooklyn looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but I didn’t have time to question anything, taking her hand and rushing toward the front doors. “Well, he seemed a little more on edge than usual,” Brooklyn noted, screwing up her nose. I didn’t respond, instead just leaning into the large doors of the church and being thankful when they opened.
“Wow!” I whispered, holding Brooklyn’s hand as we walked inside. “This place is beautiful.”
The old building felt like it had almost all the authentic details from when it was built. It was like walking into a piece of the past. The stained glass windows filtered the light through, illuminating the large space inside—it felt almost magical.
“Can I help you girls?” a lovely woman asked as she stepped out from behind the front of the church and made her way down the aisle with a welcoming smile and her hands out wide.
“Yes,” I answered, pulling Brooklyn with me toward her. “We’d really love to light a candle.”
Her face softened, and she nodded as she stopped in front of us before turning toward a large stand off to the right which had many candles on it, all on raised levels that slowly climbed the wall. It was a stunning display of beautiful candles, some that were lit, others that weren’t, and even a group of colored candles that seemed to be off to the side a little.
