Cleo's Rage (Devil's Riot MC Book 4)

by E. C. Land

  “Morning, Lave,” I say as soon as she enters the kitchen.

  “Morning,” she grumbles, moving to the coffee. She’s not much of a morning person either, and she’s never been one to drink coffee. According to her, it tastes like ass.

  “When did you start drinking coffee?” I ask, lifting a brow as she takes a sip from her cup.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs her shoulders, leaning against the counter and cradling the cup with both hands.

  “We need to get started, Lave. We got a lot of shit to get to make this house our home. You ready for that?” I ask her.

  “No, I’m not ready, but I guess I don’t have a choice in the matter. I’ll go change and get ready,” she says, stepping away from the counter, not looking at me. Cleo has barely looked at me more than a few times since I carried her out of Stoney’s clubhouse.

  “Lave, baby, you always got a choice in anything we do, but when it comes to you and me we're gonna work that shit out. You’ve always been my woman, even when I was too fucked in the head to stay at a time you needed me the most. I fucked up and intend to make it right between us. I love you, my Lavender. I hope you know that,” I say, without intending to, but she needs to know just how I feel about her. I don’t want her to be running the other way scared or wondering when I’ll up and leave again.

  “Rage, you don’t want me, not anymore. I mean, seriously, you know what happened that day, but you don’t know everything he did to me and planned to still do to me. By the time he was done, Lynsdey would have been dead while I was still alive as his pet. So please stop thinking we can be more than friends. I can’t give you anything I haven’t. I love you too, so much it hurts saying this to you, but you need to know we can’t be together,” Cleo says, ending on a sob. I stand there speechless as she makes her way back out of the kitchen.

  I run my hands through my hair in frustration. Here I thought I could bring her home and fix the problems for her. Get her the help she needs and everything would go back to normal. We could start a family, be a family together. Fuckin’ Jake fucked everything up. Punching the wall, my fist goes through the drywall and I don’t even feel the pain of it.

  What do I do now? Cleo is my fuckin’ everything. I’m clueless right now as to where we should go. Fury begins to consume me at not being able to bring back the dead to send him there again. Shaking my head, I go get dressed, throwing on a pair of jeans and a tee, sliding my cut on before stepping into my boots.

  If not for all the shit we need to get for the house, I’d be out of here now. I need to clear my head to figure out my next step.

  Then it dawns on me, what I did when I started to heal after my sister’s death. I run my fingers along the right side of my chest where I had my first work of art done. Maybe just maybe, I can start there. They say the right tattoo artist can work wonders in helping you start living again, it worked with me. Hell, it even worked with Thorn when he attempted to eat a bullet while we were still in the service. Thorn might just be the answer to get Cleo to talk to someone.

  I only hope my next step doesn’t fuck me over.

  5

  Cleo

  My heart aches as his words repeat in my head. He loves me. How can he love someone so fucked up on the inside? He hasn’t even seen the scars marring my body. No one other than the doctors who first treated me have. I can’t even look in the mirror.

  Instead of taking the bike, he opts for a truck I didn’t even know he bought. The ride is silent as we drive down the road. When we pull up in front of a building with the words Devil's Ink, I finally look over at him as he puts the truck in park.

  “I thought you said we needed to get stuff for the house. Why are we here?” I ask confused as to why we’re at a tattoo parlor. I didn’t even know Franklin had one.

  “We’ll get to all that in a little while, first we’re gonna do something else,” he says, getting out of the truck without another word. I watch as he walks around the truck, coming to my door and opening it for me since I have yet to move. “Come on, Lave, you can’t sit here all day. Move that sexy ass of yours.”

  My front brushes his as I slide out of my seat, unable to avoid touching him with the way he’s standing so close.

  Grabbing my hand, Rage walks to the door, holding it open for me to walk through first, never once letting go of my hand. Looking around, I see the emblem for the club hanging above the reception desk. This must be the clubs.

  “Well damn, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. I mean shit, I saw you last night, well more or less, I saw you being carted out on this ass’s shoulder,” Burner says when he comes around the corner.

  “Hi, Burner,” I say quietly, not looking directly at him.

  “What brings you two in here?”

  “Want some work done, free-handed,” Rage says, moving further into the room.

  “Tell me more. I’m down for doing freehand anytime, brother. Whatcha want?” Burner gives Rage a huge smile.

  “Not for me, for her,” Rage says, pointing in my direction.

  “Me!” I squeak out.

  “Yeah, Lave, give it a try. I promise I’ll be right here with you the entire time,” he says quietly. Lifting my chin so my eyes make contact with his own, I realize he’s serious about me getting a tattoo. Finally, I nod. I can do this without panicking— at least, I hope so.

  “Alright then, you’re in luck. I don’t have any appointments until later today and if I need to, I can postpone them or hand them off to Badger,” Burner says, leading the way toward the back. “This room is usually meant for certain types of tats, but I figure you’ll be more comfortable here than anywhere else. Go ahead and figure out where you want this done while I get my shit. I’ll be right back.”

  “Lave, babe, why don’t you get a little shoulder piece or something. Just something small to start out with. If you want something else, you can always get more later,” Rage whispers.

  My shoulder would mean him seeing my back. Does he remember the marks? I’d been covered in so much blood that night, I didn’t think the guys knew about the scars all over my body. Getting a tattoo means I can cover them, then I don’t have to fear what others think of me.

  Nodding my head, I look in his eyes. “Can I get something going across my entire back, from my shoulders to right at my pants line?” I ask.

  “Whatever you want, Lave, it’s up to you. Burner’s good and I’ll be right here the entire time. Why don’t you go ahead remove your shirt and get on the table before he comes back in? I’d hate to kill him for seeing more of your beautiful body then he already is,” Rage says then turns to give me privacy like that’s going to make a difference in what he’s about to see. At least when he sees it, I won’t have to see his face.

  Taking my shirt and bra off, I get on the table and wait for Burner to come back. It doesn’t take long before I hear him come back in pushing a cart with supplies on it.

  “Are we ready?” Burner asks, placing the cart next to me.

  “Yes,” I whispered, trying to stop the panic from setting in. These two men, one being the man I love more than anything, are about to see one of the many things I hide.

  “Alright, then what are we getting? I see it’s gonna be your back. Where and what would you like, Cleo?” Burner asks. I know he can see the scars, but he doesn’t hint to them bothering him. Rage hasn’t said anything or moved from where he is other than turning to face me.

  “Lavender, tell him what you want.” Yep, he can see them. I can hear it in his voice the way it becomes harsh. If not for the fact that I don’t want either of them to see the worst of the scars along the front of my body, I’d be off this table in a heartbeat putting my shirt back on.

  “I’m not sure what I want other than to completely cover my back. If you wouldn’t mind, do what you feel would be best,” I barely get it in a whisper as tears begin to fill my eyes.

  “You got it, Cleo. Try and relax. I’m going to get ready to start. I need to clean your back and
run a razor along the surface to prep for the fun part.” At my nod, Burner runs something wet along my entire back then brings the razor behind it. When he’s ready, I hear the buzz of his tattoo gun turn on.

  My first instinct is to tense when he brings the needle down along my skin, but Rage must sense it. He grabs a chair and brings it to the front of the table where he begins to run his hand through my hair, soothingly. At his touch, I relax again back into the table. I don’t know how long I lay there, Burner asked me several times throughout the process if I needed a break. I didn’t.

  Once I got over the initial pain of the needle going in and out of my skin, I started to enjoy it. It’s almost as if Burner is helping me become someone new. I can say goodbye to the me who is scarred, and hello to the new me with ink. I’ve never thought about getting ink before now. And I’m grateful to Rage for thinking about this. Like always, he seems to know just what I need.

  I may sound like a weak bitch right now and it’s the truth, I am weak. As much as I’d love nothing more than to be my old self, it will never happen. Since the night Jake took me, my life has been nothing but a living hell. I’ve been scared out of my mind, of my own shadow. Not just that I jump at the smallest sound, but fearing what comes next.

  I still stand by what I said earlier about him and I not being able to be together. I can’t do it, physically or emotionally. Our dreams of being a real couple, a family, died the day everything happened.

  Time seems to go by as I continue to listen to the buzzing of the tattoo gun. When the gun finally shuts off, I don’t know what to think as I wait for Burner to clean my back.

  “You ready to see the masterpiece I’ve created? Now, I’m not completely finished with it. We’ll have to do another session in about three weeks to add the shading and color,” Burner asks.

  “Yes,” I whisper, unsure how I’ll manage it with him in the room. I’m not about to let him see the front. One— I don’t need either one of them to see my scars that are in the front. Two— no way in hell is Burner seeing my boobs. I’ve always been self-conscious about them. Being a DD-cup, I’m used to all the jokes. I’ve heard them all. Hell, I’ve even been called the next Anna Nicole. It’s one of the reasons I dye my hair purple. I might not be able to change them, however, I can change other things about myself.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I realize both men have left the room. Guess they understood without me saying anything that I needed them out of the room. Standing up, I move over to the mirror, gasping at the work of art now covering my back. Tears well in my eyes. Burner really knew just what I needed. On my back is an outline of a beautiful woman surrounded by a bear, doe, snake, and wolf.

  A knock on the door draws my attention back to the room instead of the work of art now covering my back.

  “Lave, you ready for us to come back in? Burner needs to bandage your tattoo up so we can head out,” Rage calls out through the door. Oh shit, I quickly grab my shirt, covering my front before letting him know they can come back in.

  When the door opens, I can’t help but look at the two men walk back into the room. “Why?” I simply ask into the room, tears falling from my eyes. Burner looks at Rage then back to me.

  “My head told me it was what you needed,” Burner says, shrugging his shoulders.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Cleo, I might not know everything you’ve been through but I know enough. Soon as Rage asked for freehand, my head drew up the image that now covers your back. I won’t go into detail on how that works but I can at least tell you why I chose those animals for you. That is if you want me to,” Burner says, going about bandaging my back.

  “Please.”

  “They all stand for several things. The bear— strength, courage, healing, and strong ground force. The deer— gentleness, innocence, vigilance, sensitivity, and the ability to regenerate. The snake— that can mean several things. But in this case, he stands for healing, primal energy, and transformation. Finally, the powerful wolf— instinctive, intelligence, and lack of trust. These animals are to represent your spiritual rebirth. As of now, they’re your protectors. The four surround you to keep you safe, hide your scars, and let you start living again,” Burner says, moving toward the room to clean up the equipment.

  I don’t know what to think let alone say to him, so I simply nod.

  “Thanks, brother, means a lot,” Rage says, moving to stand in front of me.

  "No problem, brother. I’ve got you,” Burner replies, stepping out of the room, pulling the cart with him.

  “Come on, Lave, let’s get your shirt on. We got shit to get done now,” Rage says once the door closes behind Burner.

  Rage helps me gently get the shirt on without messing up the bandage. Sucks I had to go without my bra, but there’s no way I’d be able to wear it and not mess up my new tattoo.

  “How about we go grab some food and decide what to do next?” Rage says, guiding me from the back of the tattoo parlor to the front entrance. I stop dead when I see several of the club members standing there. “Come on, Lavender, they’re not gonna do anything. They wanted to see you with their own eyes,” Rage says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I flinch but only slightly. It’s strange, even though I flinch, I’m not as scared of his touch.

  Maybe Burner’s right about my spirit animals protecting me. I honestly don’t know much on the subject. I’ll have to look into it more.

  I let Rage guide me past all his brothers, out the door, and into the truck where he helps me climb into my seat. Before he closes the door, he grips my chin, making me look directly at him.

  “I’m sorry, Lave, so damn sorry I didn’t protect you. You might not think we belong together, but we do. I’m gonna help you get to that point,” Rage murmurs, his voice full of regret. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but words escape me yet again. I end up merely giving him a nod, lifting my hand to his cheek, stroking the ruff whiskers. Rage closes his eyes for a brief moment before pulling away and closing the door to go to his side.

  Maybe, just maybe, I can heal from this.

  6

  Rage

  The feel of her hand against my cheek almost makes me come undone. It’s the first time Cleo’s touched me willingly. I get she’s been home less than a day, but I’ve been dying on the inside without her touch for months. Having her touch me like she did set a fire in my soul I don’t ever want to lose.

  Earlier, when Burner was covering the scars on her back, red filled my vision. I knew about her having some scars, but when she first laid on the table, I saw what she wanted to hide. Kills me to know I never once asked her about the older ones. But then again, after Lynsdey went missing, I knew she’d never tell; probably think I wouldn’t want her anymore. What she doesn’t get, though, is with the scars or not, she’s the most beautiful woman in my eyes.

  I could barely keep myself from touching her earlier and now here I am in a fuckin’ home goods store trying to be good about everything when I want nothing more than to strangle this woman. Cleo used to love going shopping, dragging me along with her whenever she could convince me to go, and usually it involved getting my mind blown with a blowjob. Otherwise, fuck that shit. I fuckin’ hate shopping. I’d have preferred to get one of the ol’ ladies who are Cleo’s best friends to come do this. Unfortunately, I know she’s not ready to face them just yet.

  Shaking my head from my thoughts, I watch as Cleo finally picks up a set of dishes that weren’t the cheapest set on the shelf. I had to put my foot down when we first got here about not picking out shit she really doesn’t want. The house is ours, not just mine.

  When Cleo has the cart loaded down and moves for the register, I finally speak up again. “You done, babe?”

  “I think so. I didn’t really look around the house to see what all you need, but for now this will do,” Cleo says, looking up at me.

  “Lavender, sweetheart, the house isn’t only for me, it’s for the both of us. I’ve told you
already and I’ll continue to tell you until you get it. You and me, we’re happenin’. You might not agree with me yet, but you, Cleo, are my ol’ lady,” I murmur loud enough for her ears alone.

  “Rage, you don’t want me as an ol’ lady. I promise you that if you knew everything I’ve been through, you’d run the other way,” Cleo murmurs back, tears shimmering in her eyes. Guts me seeing the pain she carries with her.

  “Lave, I ain’t going anywhere, no matter what you tell me. How ‘bout instead of going to finish this shopping trip, we grab some take-out and head home. I’ll lay out some blankets on the floor and we can just talk. You and me, like we used to. Doesn’t have to be any heavy shit, fuck, it can be about the sky being blue. I don’t give a damn,” I say, reaching up to brush a strand of hair fallen from her hair clip.

  Cleo doesn’t answer at first, simply stares me in the eyes searching for any deception I might be trying to pull on her. Finally, she nods her head in agreement. “Okay, that sounds nice. Can we do Chinese? I haven’t had bourbon chicken and lo mein noodles in what feels like forever,” she says.

  “Yeah, Lave, we can get Chinese. That sounds good, actually, I might get the same thing.” I can’t help but hide my smile at the small win. To have Cleo at least willing to open up to me somewhat, I’ll fuckin’ take it. Might make me sound like a pussy but damn my woman needs to know she can open up around me. She needs to know I’m here for her and I’ll do anything in my power to bring a smile to her face, to see her eyes light up at the sight of the smallest thing again.

  Once I pay for everything, we head out. Quietly, we load everything in the back of the truck before heading over to the Chinese place Cleo introduced me to when I first met her. They’ve got the best noodles I’ve ever had. We’ve spent many nights eating from there.

  I don’t waste time after they have our food ready. When they say ten minutes, it’s usually five and, boom, it’s done.