UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8)

by Hayley Faiman

  She licks her lips, her eyes finding mine and she dips her chin. “I’m a shit person. He thought I was dead. I took advantage and I left. But I left knowing what was going to happen to you.”

  Tears well in her eyes as she doesn’t break contact. She holds my eyes with hers. Sadness, guilt, complete sorrow pours from her.

  “I was on drugs for a long time. I met him when I was thirteen. That’s how old I was when he took me. After I got pregnant, that’s when he started sharing me. It was ugly and I was a little girl. I had no idea how to take care of you. I tried to get clean, took you to my grandparents in Arkansas, but he just drug me back to California.”

  “I remember that trip. It was the safest I’d ever felt, until Jaguar saved me,” I admit.

  Pinkie lifts her hand and cups my cheek. “Call me Alyssa. That’s my name. I’m sorry for everything. If I could go back…”

  “You can’t, and I don’t want you to,” I snap. “You were a little girl. He abused you. I remember him hurting you. I remember him forcing drugs into your body. I’m not angry at you, I never was.”

  “I should have given you up for adoption or to the state or something,” she murmurs.

  “If you had, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have Jaguar and I wouldn’t have you.”

  She gives me a small smile, laughing softly, obviously finding me funny and naïve. I don’t blame her, I am. I’m extremely naïve. I have no idea what the hell is going on in this world outside of the bubble I’m in.

  But I’m happier today than I ever have been. “I don’t expect you to want me as your mother, but can you accept me as your friend?” she asks softly.

  “You already are. Just don’t sleep with my man anymore,” I say, scrunching my nose.

  Pinkie, or Alyssa as I’ve discovered is her real name, shakes her head. “You can trust me that will never happen again. Not that it has for a very long time.”

  A sense of relief fills me that they haven’t been together for a while. Even Dylan told me that they hadn’t been and I’m glad for that.

  Reaching out, I wrap my arms around her, and then she does the same. We hug one another, but I can tell that she’s crying. She excuses herself and hurries off. I don’t follow her, knowing that she needs a moment. However, I feel better than I ever have—freer, happier.

  I look back over my shoulder at Maci. She’s watching me but quickly looks away, in the direction of Bones and his men. Biting the inside of my cheek, I shake my head, then make my way over to her.

  Sinking down in the chair across from her, I lick my lips. “I’m not good at making friends, I never have been,” she states before I can even say a word.

  Clearing my throat, I sit forward. “Confession?” I ask. She nods. “I’m not either. This group, the men and the women though? They’re awesome. I’ve never felt as safe as I do here.”

  “Yeah, I’m starting to feel that. I just don’t know what the future will be for me.”

  “I wish I knew,” I say.

  She clears her throat and I notice that her eyes are watery. She’s scared. She’s not in love with Bones, she’s attached herself to him because he’s safe. She’s terrified. Reaching out, I wrap my hand around her wrist, just the way Della and Gisele and the other Old Ladies have done with me and I squeeze.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  She nods her head, though I can tell that she doesn’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either. I have no idea what is going to happen to her when the guys come back. I hear a man clear his throat, and I look behind me quickly to see that it’s Bones. He isn’t looking at Maci, instead his gaze is focused on me and nowhere else.

  “So you’re Jag’s,” he says, his voice is soft and almost a purr.

  Rolling my lips together, I look up at him and nod my head once. “Yeah,” I breathe.

  He doesn’t say anything right away, instead he stares at me. I wait for him to speak, but he just watches me. Quietly. Then he clears his throat, flicking his gaze from me to Maci, then back to me.

  “And Riot’s kid?”

  “Yes,” I say through my teeth.

  I don’t tell him about my latest discovery, about Pinkie being my mom, I don’t know him and I have no desire to divulge anything personal to a stranger.

  He chuckles, obviously enjoying getting a rise out of me. Clearing my throat, I sit up a little higher and narrow my eyes on him, waiting to see what exactly his point is.

  “Hope he’s on the right path now. Hate to see him fuck over a pretty thing like you.”

  “Bones,” a man grunts.

  I lift my eyes and notice that it’s Coyote who is standing behind him. Bones grins, then winks before he turns and walks away. Coyote is shaking his head, his eyes finding mine before he smirks and takes a seat next to me.

  “He’s a smooth talker, always has been. He thinks he’s something fucking special.”

  I laugh and jerk my chin toward Maci. “I’m good. He doesn’t scare me, or do anything for me.”

  Coyote laughs. “Don’t tell him that, he’ll start trying.”

  “He’s married,” I deadpan.

  “He likes a challenge. He’d never cheat on his wife, but that doesn’t mean he won’t flirt and he won’t take you home so they can both enjoy you.”

  Maci gasps and I look over to her. Her face is pale and her eyes are wide. “Seriously?” she hisses.

  “Seriously,” Coyote snorts.

  “Wow.”

  “You want that?” he asks.

  She shakes her head. “No, I just. He kind of alluded to it, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “Better for you.” Coyote chuckles. “He wouldn’t keep you anyway. He keeps his wife, that’s all.”

  Maci doesn’t say anything else, she nods her head and I watch as the starry, lusty-eyed expression leaves once she lifts her eyes and looks toward Bones. She’s over him now, and I almost kiss Coyote for doing that.

  It’s for the best and I think that she deserves more. But maybe I’m just talking out of my ass and being hopeful that she could be a true friend, that she could be an Old Lady like me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  JAGUAR

  Once the bodies are tossed into the burning house, the pipes are wiped down and tossed with them along with our clothes that have blood on them. We change and drive in the opposite direction of the fire. We make our way toward another town. It’s another small coastal town with tourists everywhere.

  We make our way toward a restaurant and get a big table toward the back. Nobody has spoken, but it’s not because we’re contemplating what we’ve just done. All of us knew that it was time and needed to go down. And none of us are going to lose any sleep knowing that the sick fucks are dead.

  Our food doesn’t take long to arrive and we all practically moan at the scent of the fresh Dungeness crab in front of us. Before any of us reach for the food in front of us, Dragon lifts his beer in a toast.

  “It’s done. War is over before it truly began and now we can sleep peacefully knowing that their stink won’t come near us again,” he begins. Then his eyes shift over to me and he smiles. “To the Savage Beasts,” he boasts.

  We all touch bottlenecks with a clink and then we proceed to stuff ourselves completely full. When we’re finished, we walk around the small coastal town, going into shops just to be seen. I doubt anyone would even think we were the ones who killed the Punchers, but it’s better to be safe rather than sorry.

  We leave before the sun sets, heading back to the hotel to get our shit and get the fuck out of Oregon. When we arrive, Gator and the waitress are sitting outside in some plastic chairs. I smile at the sight of them. She’s a pretty thing, I wonder how long it will last, a month, maybe two if she’s lucky.

  It doesn’t take us long to gather all of our shit and load up the truck and bikes. I watch Mamba and Gator, curious to see which bike the girl gets on the back of. It’s no surprise that she climbs up behind Mamba, wrapping her arms around his middle
.

  Climbing into the pickup, I look over to Silver and jerk my chin. “They’re askin’ for trouble,” he grunts.

  “They branded Maria,” I point out.

  “Yeah, and she walked away without as much as a fuck you all. Went right back to the Skulls to be whatever the fuck they wanted her to be. Probably a whore,” he points out.

  “There’s a hell of a lot more to that story than any of us knows,” I say.

  He grunts as he follows behind the bikes. “Yeah, there is. Just like we knew there was more to your story than you just being a betrayer.”

  “Like me being weak?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “It’s a lot more complicated than that and you know it.”

  Nodding my head, I don’t say it, but I do agree with him. We only see the surface, what people want to show us. We don’t see the rest of any of it. And I know with Mamba, Gator, and Maria it was a lot more complicated than any of them voiced. That’s fine, it’s their lives and their personal shit.

  But now they’re jumping into something with a stranger, a woman they’re picking up in a little town in the middle of nowhere and taking her back. It seems sketchy, but it’s not my fucking business. If they want to brand a dozen women and leave them, it’s not my concern. Especially since I’m not even a voting member at the moment.

  Silver and I don’t speak for a while and unlike the way here, it is comfortable, completely and totally. Something has shifted between the men and me. Maybe they hate me a little less now that they know I’m not against them.

  Maybe they’re starting to trust me again. Maybe I just need to stop thinking about it so fucking much.

  I still don’t know what is going to happen to me, to Pamela and with our future. If they vote against paying me, against giving me extra duties, then I’m fucked. I can’t leave Pammy, can’t pretend that she ain’t mine. Even if she’s not officially my Old Lady as far as the club is concerned, she’s still my woman. It’s my duty to take care of her.

  “Church will be in session tomorrow,” Silver announces.

  We’re only five hours away from Eagar, the trip not taking quite as long to come home as it did the way there, mainly because we’re all in a hurry to see our women. We no longer have to worry about what’s in the back of the truck, something that I didn’t realize was there and the sole reason Silver was driving slower and more careful than I’ve ever seen him before.

  “Yeah,” I say, looking out the window.

  I don’t know what the future will bring, especially when it comes to me and the club, then me and Pamela. What I wanted with a woman, I now have with her and I can’t even take care of her. I shouldn’t have her. I should walk away, send her away, let her leave me.

  The guilt of knowing that I’ve completely ruined a woman’s life swims inside of me threatening to fill me up, but I push it down. I refuse to allow it to control me, mainly because if I do, then I won’t have her. I would send her away, I would let her leave me, but it’s just not enough to allow that.

  “Stick around the clubhouse, we vote tomorrow,” he announces.

  I know what he’s talking about. They vote on whether or not I get paid. On whether or not they can trust me a little more. On whether or not I’ll ever be allowed back in. It all seems really fast. I’ve only been back weeks, but this vote is going to change my future, not only with the club, but also with Pamela.

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  Silver doesn’t say anything else, though I can tell that he wants to speak, but is holding back. I don’t know why he is, he knows he can say whatever the fuck he wants to me and I can’t say shit back—can’t do shit to him either.

  As a prospect, I have no voice when it comes to the Savage Beasts. They all humor me, allowing me to speak when they don’t have to. Honestly, I don’t know why they do it, I wouldn’t if the tables were turned. If I hadn’t been humbled, if I hadn’t fucked up completely, I would make whoever did what I did suffer day in and day out.

  The fact is, these men are just better than I am. Always have been. I’ve never really earned my patch. I’m not necessarily a nice guy. I’ve never chosen to protect others, not unless it was required by the Beasts. I’ve never actively chosen much other than drinking, getting laid, and acting like a dick.

  My brothers are better men than I could ever be and I hope that I can be more like them. They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but can you change? Can a person truly change if they want to? I feel like I can. I’m determined.

  PAMELA

  “They should be back today,” Presley announces.

  She’s leaning back, sitting on the picnic table that faces the entrance gate. The kids are running around, although her oldest is thirteen and he seems more interested in his cellphone than playing with the smaller children.

  All of the Old Ladies showed up, trays of food and bags of groceries in hand. Apparently, when the men come back after a long run, we party. I’m okay with that, mainly because I’m not ready to tell Dylan my news yet.

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  “You’re young, you’re alone, and I’m sure you’re terrified,” she begins, not looking at me, but instead looks straight ahead.

  “Yeah,” I agree, staring at her profile.

  Her lips curve up into a grin and she shakes her head once before she turns to me. “You aren’t alone, Pamela. All of us have been scared at one point or another. We’ve all been scared of this life, of the future, and of the unknown. No matter what, we’ve got your back and that baby’s.”

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  She shrugs a shoulder, her lips firmly turned up in a smile. “Sometimes a girl just knows. Everything will work itself out, no matter what,” she says, attempting to assure me.

  I open my mouth to say something, to ask her how she knows when there is the sound of a dozen rumbling bikes coming through the gate. They sound like a swarm of bees and our attention immediately switches to them.

  Watching as they pull into the clubhouse, they all make a gigantic circle, a victory lap of sorts, before they pull into their parking spots. Then the truck comes up behind them. Presley is already on her feet and hurrying toward the men, but I don’t rush toward them. Instead, I sit back and I watch.

  I stay back, not just because I’m unsure of how I’ll be received, but also, because it’s too much action for me. There are just too many people and when I look to the side, I notice that Gisele is doing the same on her front porch. She’s sitting in her chair, watching the action. Coyote is down there somewhere, although he didn’t leave, he’s there welcoming his brothers back.

  I don’t walk over to her, even though I would like to talk to her. Instead, I watch Dylan. He climbs out of the truck. He stretches, lifting his arms high in the air and moves from side to side as if stretching out his back.

  A woman makes her way up to him. It’s the same woman who was hanging all over him the other night, the night that I left them in the bar and went to bed. The night I knew without a doubt that I needed him more than I ever truly wanted to admit.

  I knew that I needed him for security, but I also knew that Dragon would help me. He has said since minute one that he would help in any way possible and that included leaving here and starting a new life. But that night I just knew that Dylan was my life, for good or bad, he’s who and what I choose.

  Watching him with the woman, he shakes his head and skirts past her. My heart skips a beat inside of my chest. My father’s men would not have skirted past any woman who even looked in their direction, but Dylan did just that.

  He looks around, his head moving from side to side as he scans the group of people. I assume he’s looking for me, but maybe it’s Pinkie. I hate how insecure I am. I hate how our relationship isn’t defined, isn’t concrete.

  Although, maybe my news will change that, when I get brave enough to tell him that is. If I get brave enough to tell him. Maybe he’ll just figure it out without me saying a single word and we can just mo
ve through life the way we were meant to.

  I know when he sees me. He lets out a whistle that causes everybody to pause and look at him. If he notices, he doesn’t care. His feet carry him toward me quickly and even though I didn’t want to be in that crowd, around all those people, they are all focused on me anyway.

  My cheeks heat and I know that they turn pink as he approaches. Before he says a single word to me, he cups my cheeks with his palms and tugs me close, his lips touching mine. My entire body relaxes.

  It melts.

  In this moment, I know that this man is meant to be mine—all mine.

  When he’s thoroughly kissed me, he lifts his head, but doesn’t move away. Instead, he rests his forehead against mine. Together we’re panting, trying to catch our breath. Our kiss and our desire having taken everything from us.

  “Missed you,” he breathes.

  “Me too.”

  Chapter Thirty

  PAMELA

  I want nothing more than to drag him up to his room and let him kiss me everywhere. I don’t. Aside from the fact that the entire clubhouse is here and the women have made it clear we’re going to barbecue and hang out, I also am not forward enough to do any such thing.

  “What’s she doing here?” Dylan’s voice growls, causing my spine to stiffen. Turning my head to the side, I follow his line of sight and realize that he’s staring right at Maci.

  “Bones said that they couldn’t give her what she needs. Brought her back,” I explain.

  He turns his head, looking back at me. “Yeah?” he asks on a grunt.

  Shrugging a shoulder, I clear my throat. “She’s scared, but she seems nice.”

  “Her father was a fucking traitor,” he snaps.

  I blink, shifting my gaze back to him. “Dylan. It’s not her fault, what her father did. You can’t blame her for his mistakes.”

  Something in his eyes, it shifts. They turn hard, angry, and he completely shuts down in front of me. He takes a step away from me and in turn, I do the same. The anger radiates from him. My words were not meant to offend, but I am Maci.