Grave (Royal Devils MC Chicago Book 1)

by Erin Trejo

“She okay?” Lies by omission. I can do that.

  “She looks like she’s going to be fine. Do you know what she was doing out that late? Where was she?”

  “She was goin’ home. She had to work.”

  “Where does she work?” Shit.

  “At the strip club. She’s a stripper,” I tell him. I see the look in his eyes, and I know he won’t question any further. Piece of shit. Like a stripper’s life isn’t as valuable as any other?

  “And you? Why did you happen to be in the same area?”

  “Are you accusin’ me of shootin’ my own wife?” I roar as I stand to my feet. Crossing my arms over my naked chest, I glare at the cop.

  “You were there.”

  “I was out joggin’. She must have gotten off early,” I inform him.

  “And her name is?” he asks.

  “Amy. Amy Hawthorne.” Damn, I didn’t realize just how easy it is for me to lie. Maybe I should have been a goddamn actor instead of a being in the MC. I would nail this shit. The cop takes down a few notes and hands me a card, telling me to call if either of us think of anything before telling me I can go see her. Call me a prick, but as I walk out of the waiting room, I drop the card in the trash before stalking the hallway to her room. When I step inside, I’m shocked at what I see. She’s lying there, her dark hair brushed back out of her face, machines hooked up to her.

  “Damn,” I whisper as I move closer to her. I don’t know why I do what I do, but I pick her hand up, holding it in mine.

  “They left me to die. I don’t know why, but I saw you lyin’ there and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let you wake up alone the way I did. It was fucked up. Not knowin’ if I was alive or dead. Not knowin’ if any of my brothers would be there. Do you know what the worst part is? None of them were there. No one. I was alone. Don’t fuckin’ ask me why, but I didn’t want you to wake up without someone here.” With that, I take a seat in the chair next to the bed, keeping her hand in mine. Maybe I’m fucked in the head for doing this. Maybe she will think it was me when she wakes up. Hell, I don’t know anything anymore.

  “Do you know if she has any medical problems?” The doc asks when he walks in.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Any past surgeries?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, well everything looks good,” he adds.

  “What the hell do you mean looks good? She was shot!”

  “Yes, it went straight through.”

  “Then why isn’t she awake?”

  “She seems to have hit her head pretty hard. She has a concussion. She will wake up soon, I’m positive of that.” He smiles as if that makes me feel better before turning and leaving the room. Then it’s just me and her again. I know they say if you talk to someone that’s passed out like this, they can still hear you, but I don’t know how much I want her to know. So instead, I sit here and say nothing.

  Chapter Four

  “Who the hell are you and where am I?” I yawn when I hear a female’s voice. Slowly opening my eyes, I see her looking at me like I’m a mirage.

  “Good mornin’ to you too.”

  “Who the hell are you?” she roars louder this time. She shoves herself up the bed, wincing as she goes.

  “You might want to lie still. You were shot and hit your head,” I remind her. She looks down at the gown she has on before shaking her head slowly.

  “I was shot? What the hell?”

  “You don’t remember?” She looks up at me with a lost look in her eyes. Oh, shit.

  “No.”

  “Let me get the doc,” I say, standing from my seat and heading for the door. I grab the first doctor I can find by the shoulder and drag him into the room. He looks confused.

  “She’s up,” I tell him.

  “I’m not… I don’t know…”

  “You’re what? Ain’t you a doc? You wearin’ the goddamn lab coat and prancin’ around in your goddamn loafers,” I say, motioning to his body. The chick in the bed giggles a little.

  “I’m not her doctor,” he says, trying to back out of the room. Instead, I grab his little jacket and pull him up, so we are face-to-face.

  “She was shot and hit her head. She was asleep. Now she’s awake and can’t remember shit. Do what you do and check her, Doc.” Giving him a little shove, he moves toward her cautiously. I don’t blame him. A grown ass man my size with his own gunshot scars, I would move carefully too. I watch as he looks her over, checking her eyes and shit.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks her. I sit on the edge of the chair, waiting and praying she doesn’t say shit about me not being her husband.

  “Nothing. I don’t remember anything. Not even my name,” she says sadly. Fuck me.

  “Do you remember your husband?” he asks, nodding toward me. Here we go. Her eyes come to meet mine and widen as she looks me over. I almost laugh at the look in her eyes. She moves her head from side to side slowly, but her eyes never leave mine.

  “You okay?” I ask her.

  “It’s more than likely from the hit to the head. Most of the time when this happens, the memories will slowly come back with time. You just need to rest and heal. I will have a nurse check your chart and see when you can go home.” Home? Well, fuck. She can’t come home with me. Maybe I can sneak out of here before that happens.

  “Where do we live?” she asks, looking over at me as the doc leaves. Talk about being put in the spotlight. Guess sneaking out isn’t happening.

  “Uh we’ve been stayin’ at a hotel.”

  “A hotel? We don’t have a house?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

  “House fire. Lost everything.” Her jaw drops and hangs there as she stares at me.

  “Did we… do we have kids? Pets?” I shake my head and swallow hard. This is getting harder to do.

  “No. We’ve only been married a short time. Barely know each other, honestly.” She flops her head back against the pillow, confused as ever. I can’t say I blame her. I’m trying to compartmentalize my damn lies so I can keep them all straight here.

  “Did I work?” she asks softly.

  “Yeah. As a stripper,” I blurt out. Jesus. I can see the tears form in her eyes from here. I shouldn’t have said that, but what the fuck else am I supposed to say? It’s what I told the cops; I have to keep my stories straight.

  “So, I’m a whore? Is that how we met?” She turns her head and her light brown eyes catch mine.

  “You’re not a whore and no, we didn’t meet there. I met you at the uh… grocery store.” Could I be any more cliché? The fucking grocery store? Her smile slowly comes back when she reaches up and wipes her eyes.

  “At least I didn’t fuck you for money,” she adds.

  “Well there was that one time,” I tease, earning a smile.

  “I’m sorry I can’t remember you. I’m sure you’re a great person.” I nearly choke on my own spit as I nod my head. “Where is your shirt?”

  “Used it to apply pressure to your wound.”

  “Thank you for that too.”

  “Don’t keep thankin’ me. I was hurt once, too, and I woke up alone. I didn’t want that for you,” I finally admit to her. Her eyes stay locked with mine.

  “Did I leave you alone?” The pain in her voice kills me. She thinks she left me alone. I shake my head.

  “No, babe. It wasn’t you.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “James.”

  “What’s my name?”

  “Amy.”

  Chapter Five

  I’ve watched her struggle for days trying to remember anything, but she always comes up blank. I hate that she can’t remember, but at the same time, I’m glad she doesn’t. Then she would call me on my bullshit. I know at some point her memory will come back and then I’m pretty fucked. For now, this is what I’m doing. I couldn’t just leave her there to figure something out on her own.

  Sitting in the back of the taxi, I watch out the window as we
move through the Wisconsin streets. I’m thankful for this little ass town I ended up in. Not that it’s anything special, but it keeps me off the grid for now. Amy sits next to me, fidgeting in her seat. We’ve stopped and got her medicine and all that before heading back to the hotel. I left yesterday for a little while to grab some clothes for her. I couldn’t have my wife come home without anything to put on. Besides, that would look suspicious.

  We pull to a stop outside the run-down motel. I climb out and come around, helping Amy from the car, leading her toward our room. It isn’t much and I hate that this is where she has to be to recover but I dug this goddamn hole myself.

  “This is it?” she asks, looking up at me as I nod. I pull the key out and open the door to room one-fifteen ushering her inside. Amy walks in and glances around, focusing hard as if she is trying to force herself to remember.

  “Doc said not to force it.”

  “I know, I just wish I could remember something. Anything.” Guilt settles in my chest as I think about that. I told her things, lies about her life that she thinks are true for the most part.

  “You will, babe. You hungry? I can order somethin’,” I offer as she walks over and sits on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m fine. Thanks.” Nodding my head, I stand here with my hands in my pockets, unsure of what to do next.

  “Okay, well I’m gonna head out. I have some work to get done,” I tell her, which isn’t a lie. I’ve been doing handyman work since I got here to keep some cash flow coming in. I have money, had it on me when I left and I’m thankful as fuck the hospital didn’t touch it, but I know it’s not going to last forever.

  “Oh, okay. Thanks for bringing me… well, home,” she says with a small smile. I nod my head and turn on my heel to head out the door when she stops me.

  “James?” Shit, that’s me isn’t it? I stalled for a second before I turn back to face her.

  “Yeah?”

  “Could you… I don’t know. I’m sorry to even ask but do you think you could miss work? Stay here with me?” The fear in her eyes should be enough for me to stay but she is nothing to me. Then again, if my mom ever found out I treated a woman that way, she would bust my ass even as a grown man. I raise my hand, scratch at my jaw and nod like a goddamn fool.

  “Yeah. I can miss today. You wanna watch a movie or somethin’?” I ask, trying to figure out what the hell I should do with a woman in my bed who I clearly cannot fuck. This is a new one too. Seems I’m full of bullshit surprises today.

  “Yeah, that would be great.” I walk over and help her lay back on the pillows before kicking my boots off. With only my jeans, I climb onto the bed next to her. Full-sized bed. That’s what they put in this motherfucker, which means the closer we are together. Just what I don’t need. I grab the control and flip the television on when she looks over at me.

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “A little of everything. Right now, I’m workin’ on this hotel and a few other side jobs,” I tell her, which isn’t really a lie. Mainly I’ve been looking into the club, trying to find out what all the bullshit with my dad was about. Why he wanted me dead? Why they think I’m dead is an even bigger question and how I can reach out to my mom without anyone finding out that I am indeed alive?

  “Have you always been a handyman?”

  “No. Not always. I used to fix motorcycles, but that was a long time ago.” I tell her another lie.

  “Was I always a stripper?” she asks, her tone lower now as the embarrassment sweeps over her cheeks, coloring them red.

  “As long as I’ve known you.”

  “And that didn’t bother you? That I’d take my clothes off for other men?” Jesus, what is she trying to do to me?

  “To a point. I don’t think you will be strippin’ anymore after this though.”

  “Why? Will the scars be that ugly?” I shift so I can look at her better, grabbing her face in my hands.

  “There is nothin’ and I mean nothin’ ugly about you. It’s dangerous, Amy. Look what happened already. It could have been anyone that hurt you.”

  “Thank you,” she whispers, her cheeks getting redder. I watch as she licks her lips, her eyes coming to rest on mine. Nope. That right there is taking shit way too far. My lies can only handle so much, and my cock just jumped in my jeans watching that tongue of hers. I need to shut this shit down right now. When she starts to lean toward me, I drop my hands and move away from her, standing from the bed.

  “You need your meds,” I tell her quickly, taking the attention off the kiss we almost had. I move around the bed, grabbing her pills from the bag and pouring two into my hand. Grabbing the bottle of water off the nightstand, I hold it out to her. She watches me for a long second, looking for something I’m not sure of before she takes it.

  “Will these make me sleep?” she asks, grabbing the pills from my hand.

  “These are pain meds, so yeah you’ll probably get tired.” I watch her toss the pills into her mouth before bringing the bottle to her lips. Damn those are nice lips. Shaking my head, I step back and run my hand through my hair.

  “Will you lie with me? I don’t want to be alone,” she says softly. I know I shouldn’t. I know I should walk away now and not look back but what the fuck? I did this. I started this lie and I can’t just leave her to fend for herself now.

  “Yeah.” No. You should have said no, you dumb fuck. I move back to my side and climb in pulling the blanket over her body. When I lay back on my back, she scoots closer and nuzzles into my side.

  “Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispers.

  “It’s what a husband does.” Or an idiot. Yeah, let’s go with that one.

  Chapter Six

  “How is shit goin’?” Mystic asks.

  “Fuck, Mystic. I don’t know. I’m no closer to learnin’ why this shit is even happenin’ and now I got a fake wife too,” I admit while he laughs into the other end of the phone. Asshole. This would amuse him.

  “That is your own fuck up. As far as the club shit, I got nothin’, brother. I agree this shit is wrong on all levels, but I can’t pinpoint anything. It’s startin’ to piss me off for you, Grave.” His laughter is needed. I haven’t laughed or even thought about it since I’ve been here. I’m sick of this shit. I’m tired of not knowing and I want to get my hands dirty.

  “James!” I hear Amy yell from inside the hotel room, but I ignore her, figuring she probably saw another roach.

  “James? Who the fuck is James?”

  “I am, asshole. At least for now I am.”

  “James, huh? Couldn’t come up with somethin’ better than that?” Mystic laughs.

  “James!” she screams again but I just shake my head.

  “I need somethin’, Mystic. I can’t sit around here forever.”

  “I know, brother. I’m doin’ what I can. If I get anything else, I’ll call you back.” The line goes dead just as the hotel door flies open. Amy comes running out, a smile on her face that I haven’t seen in a month. A month. A month of me lying to this girl. A month of me trying to help her yet keep myself separated at the same time. I’ve watched her change, become stronger in that month.

  “What? What happened?”

  “Silla. That name keeps coming back to me. I think it’s maybe my middle name? I don’t know. Did I ever tell you my middle name?” She practically beams with happiness as I fill with dread. I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell her the truth, right?

  “We need to talk about somethin’,” I tell her as she stares up at me.

  “What?”

  “Fuck. Let’s go inside. You might need to sit down for this.” I usher her back inside and over to the bed. She sits on the edge and waits as I pace trying to figure out the best way to say this to her. How do you tell a person that you lied to them for the last month? That you made shit up about their life? That you really truly don’t know who the fuck they are? I clear my throat, grab a cigarette off the dresser and light it up.

/>   “Okay. So your name isn’t Amy.”

  “What? What is my name then?” she asks, but she doesn’t look as shocked as she should. Maybe it’s the hit to the head?

  “I honestly don’t know. We never met before that night. I mean… fuck!” I growl before I inhale the nicotine into my lungs.

  “Just say it, James.”

  “The night you were attacked? That’s the first time I met you. Never knew you before then.” In seconds, Amy is off the bed, my knife in her hand. She lunges at me, trying to get the tip of the knife as close to me as she possibly can but I move to block her. That doesn’t stop her from trying again. She moves, spins around and comes back at me. What the fuck is happening here? The girl was half out of it five minutes ago and now she’s trying to attack me?

  “What the fuck?” I roar as I grab her wrist and twist it until she drops the knife to the floor.

  “Stupid bastard!” she screams. The awkward angle we’re at gives her an advantage. She raises her knee and slams it into my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I huff out a breath and step back as she comes at me again. Her hands fly through the air, her eyes locked with mine. She’s pissed. No, she is beyond pissed.

  “How long did you think you could play this game?” she yells as she comes at me again. Her right fist connects with my jaw as I smirk at her. I’ll let her have her little fit for now but only because it’s been far too long since I’ve had actual contact with a human being. I haven’t touched a bitch in months, so I welcome this assault with open arms.

  “You done yet?” I ask when she steps back to take a breath.

  “Not even close,” she growls with her teeth gritted. Fuck, she is sexy as hell like that. It takes one time, just one time of my eyes roaming over her body for her to come back after me. That’s when I have enough. Grabbing her around the waist, I spin us both, pinning her to the wall. My hands move to grab her wrists, hoisting them above her head as my body keeps hers pressed against the wall. When I look down into her eyes, there’s something different there. Yeah, this is way different. I look at her, really look at her when I see it.