by Sam Crescent
“Can wait. I want her to have what she wants.”
“You’re sure?” Robin asked.
“It’s not every day my girl decides she wants to mark her skin. I’d like to be here for the process. At least where I’m not having to hold her down.”
She refused to think about that. That was a whole other time, other world. Sitting down on the chair, she lifted her shirt while Trick did whatever he had to do in order to ink her body.
This was right.
She knew it was.
There was a deep sense of calm to her as he put the point of the ink to her flesh and started.
****
One week later
Robin stood in yet another bathroom. The new ink was already healing. The salve Trick had given her was amazing. She’d followed his instructions exactly, and now she stood with a beautiful design on her body.
Even though it wasn’t completely healed yet, she knew she was going to love it.
“Feel like a rebel yet?” he asked.
“No. Why would you even think this makes me feel like a rebel?” she asked, laughing.
“I don’t know. It’s a good look on you, though.”
“You like it? Do you think it’s sexy?”
“I think you’re sexy. Does that count?” he asked.
“A little bit.” She dropped her shirt and walked toward him, kissing his cheek.
“I’ve got to ask.”
“What?”
“Did you expect me to not give you permission or something?”
“I don’t know. I guess so. You’ve kind of controlled every other area of my life, why not this one?” She shrugged.
“I’m doing this to keep you safe, you have to understand that.”
“I do. Believe me, I really do. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just in a weird mood right now. It has nothing to do with you, I swear.”
“What does it have to do with?” he asked. “You can share with me.”
“I don’t know. With the ink, it just got me thinking about before, you know.”
“Your time with Preacher?”
She moved out of his arms, walking into the main part of a new hotel room. This one was crappy. The walls were a dull yellow, and it looked like there was damp in the corners. The beds weren’t made and she didn’t want to even think about the stains on the blankets. The reception worker was a young kid, who didn’t really care, and he’d been playing some kind of videogame, not exactly dedicated. She went to sit on the edge of the bed and thought better of it. The floor wasn’t even much better.
Wrinkling her nose, she turned around. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Let’s go,” he said.
They made their way outside. She wore one of the heavy jackets he’d bought for her, and she took it, grateful for anything to ward off the cold.
Reaper gave instructions to his men before they headed out. She stretched out her neck, lifting her arms and trying to loosen up her body. She was wound so tight right now, and she needed to focus on everything else.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
They left the hotel room. Reaper rarely used places near built-up towns or cities. He avoided places with a lot of traffic and cameras. He’d been staying off the radar for a long time.
“You want to talk?”
“Not everything I talk about is going to be about Preacher. I hope you know that.”
“He was a big part of your life.”
“Not really.”
Reaper snorted.
“I’m twenty years his junior. You do get that, right? It’s why I know I had a whole life before Preacher. You know, my time with Bishop.”
“Do you really want to keep reminding me of the other men in your life?”
“Why not? You’ve had other women.”
“And they’re not still around.”
“Look, I can’t change my past for what it is. Preacher was part of the last year before you took me. The pregnancy, the responsibility, all of it, he was there. He didn’t have to be, but he was by my side and I knew with him, I wasn’t alone. Bishop, as you know, he was a dick. All he thought about was himself, and I couldn’t rely on him.” She waved her arms, trying to think of the right thing to say but drawing a blank in every single direction. “I … I never knew what I wanted out of life.”
“What do you mean?”
“The club was everything. I had my mom telling me constantly my only place was to be one of the women to the men. An old lady. There was no care about what I wanted or who I wanted to be. It was firm, direct, you will be an old lady. You’re Bear’s daughter, and your only place is now and will always be at the club.” She took a deep breath. “Graduating, college, it was never a consideration.”
“Did you want to do all of that?”
“I honestly don’t know, and the reason I don’t know is because I’ve never given myself a chance to want it. What was the point if the first time it was in reach, it was taken from me? Am I making any sense at all?”
“Yes.”
“When I got pregnant, it was expected for me to have the baby, and I did want it. Don’t get me wrong. Bishop was all about getting rid of it, but I didn’t want to. Then of course, there was the whole guilt about having another man’s baby, and he wouldn’t … give. It was always about him, not about what I was thinking and feeling. The first time I got to see my baby, you know on the ultrasound, it was the most amazing … experience of my life. I loved it. I really did.” She pushed some hair off her face. “I loved my baby and then I found out she was a girl, and it just, I was at peace.”
“Then you lost her.”
She let out a breath. “Yeah, I lost her, and I don’t know, everything shattered then. Before I did lose the baby, Bishop had mentioned about Preacher keeping the baby but her not knowing I was the mother.” She shrugged. “Once again, it was all about him.”
“I could kill him, you know. It would be easy,” Reaper said. “He’s hurt you a great deal.”
“I know, but when I confront Bishop, I want to stare him in the eyes to know he didn’t break me. That all he is and all he’ll ever be is a coward.”
Reaper took her hand, locking their fingers together. “You know, this is all nice, you telling me all of this, but it doesn’t exactly tell me what you want.”
“I’ve told you. All my life, I’ve been doing what everyone else has asked of me. I can honestly say I don’t have the first clue as to who I am or what it is I want.” She still felt lost. It didn’t matter where she was or who she was with, she would always be lost, she knew that now.
“Okay, well, let’s start slow. You know you wanted to go on this walk, right?”
“Yes, I did.” She laughed.
“Success. What do you want for dinner?”
“Pizza. I think I’m wanting pizza.”
“I’ll make sure the guys stop by at a pizza place.” Reaper pulled her close, kissing her lips. “We’ll take it one decision at a time, and you will only ever do what you want to do, Robin. I won’t tell you what to do.”
“And what if one of those decisions is to go home?” she asked.
“Then we’ll have to see what happens when you ask. Are you asking now?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
Chapter Fifteen
Present day
A birthday.
Twenty-one years of age.
Robin sat on the bench outside of the supermarket. She had a large list of items to get but she’d overheard Bear talking to know he’d purposely gotten her out of the house. There was going to be a nice big party, another one at the clubhouse to celebrate her birth.
Yay.
She didn’t know if she wanted to celebrate a life she didn’t remember. A date that was merely a date to her.
Staring up at the large building, it offered her no solutions. Just a day spent wandering up and down the aisles. She’d made a joke to Preacher about how long it took her to s
hop nowadays because she didn’t know what it was she liked or disliked. She could hold a can of canned peaches, and she didn’t even know if they were worth putting in the cart.
Bear had given her a lot of cash and told her to enjoy the day.
She hadn’t admitted to either Preacher or Bear that she was restless, or there was something she felt she needed to do, because the truth was, there was nothing she could think of. This was her life now. There was no returning memory for her. Just odd voices that wouldn’t come back or make her life any clearer. She didn’t want to talk to Preacher about her worries either.
He had this whole view of her life away from him, and part of her was afraid what he said was right. What if she did have a horrible time filled with death and torture? She had no way of knowing if it was true or not.
In fact, there was nothing she knew for certain. Not of her life, not of her time here, nothing.
Getting to her feet, she decided she’d done enough moping for one day. There was going to be plenty of time for her to feel sorry for herself. It wasn’t just for herself, though. She felt sorry for Preacher. He expected something from her, and she had yet to deliver. Every part of her life felt like a lie and she knew it was because of her.
With a cart in front of her, she put her bag inside and pushed on through the doors. The crowds weren’t fun. She hated being in any crowded place but she needed to get used to it, especially if she was expected to attend a party.
Yay.
She had to start practicing her surprised and happy face.
More lies.
Starting at the produce section, she looked at the abundance of colors. Onions, eggplant, zucchini, tomato, so many varieties to choose from. Was there a time she knew what she was doing? Did she miraculously pick the right kind of fruit and veg or did she suck at this?
Picking up a sack of onions, she placed it in her cart. Rather than think about what it was she liked or didn’t like, she decided the best way to survive was to stick to his trusted list.
She walked through each section, marking off each item she placed into the cart. By the time she got to the canned items, she was exhausted. She’d been stopped by five people so far, all of whom she had no idea who they were but they knew her. They wanted conversations and one of her favorite questions: do you remember when…? Tact was clearly not on everyone’s minds, seeing as she didn’t remember jack shit.
Her anger was coming out and knowing all new levels. How the fuck would she be able to remember anything if she didn’t even know her name? The only reason she knew her name was Robin was because people told her. There was no magical person around to give her memories though.
By the time she had finished at the checkout, she had a headache and wanted nothing more than to lie down. This had already been too tiring for her.
Pushing the cart outside, she pulled out her cell phone, ready to dial her dad or Preacher to come and pick her up.
“It’s okay, sweet girl.”
She turned toward the voice to see a large man. His hair was short and his beard thick and full. He was struggling with a baby.
Leaving her cart, she rushed to his side, holding the cart. “Here, let me help.”
“Thank you,” the man said.
She offered him a smile. “She’s a wriggler.”
The baby in his arms wasn’t happy.
“Tell me about it. It’s okay, sweetheart.” He put the baby in the cart.
“How old is she?”
“Just over one now. She can hold her head and sit up,” he said.
“She’s beautiful.”
“Her mother tells her that as much as she can.”
“What’s her name?” Robin asked.
“Bethany.”
“Beautiful name. Anyway, I better let you get back to your shopping.”
“Thank you so much for your help.” He held out his hand and his shirt rode up. She got a look at his ink and there was something about him.
“Do I know you?”
There was a pause.
“No, we don’t know each other.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” She shook his head. “Forgive me. I’m not usually, you know, so … weird.”
“It’s fine, Robin,” he said.
“I’ll let you get back to your shopping.” She held up her cell phone and stepped away. She was just about to call Preacher when he suddenly pulled up into the spot. She looked behind her to say goodbye to the man she’d helped but he must have already gone inside. There was no sign of him.
“Did you enjoy shopping?” Preacher asked.
“No, but I got everything on the list.” Preacher returned the cart as she climbed into the front seat. Just as she did her seatbelt, she frowned.
The man had called her Robin.
If he didn’t know her, how did he know her name?
“You okay?” Preacher asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” They pulled away from the supermarket, and she rubbed at her temple.
“I’m going to have to ask again if you don’t start talking.”
“I’ve got a headache. It’s nothing. I got tired with everyone trying to jog my memory.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She waved her hand in the air, not really caring about the supermarket anymore. No, her thoughts were on the man with the young girl. Bethany. “Slaves to the Beast.”
Preacher jerked the car to a stop. People went past, pressing on their horns.
“Rather rude.”
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Did you remember something?”
“No.”
“You must have remembered something.”
“Why?”
“Slaves to the Beast,” he said.
“What about it?”
“How do you know the name?”
“It was on a guy’s arm. He had it inked near his wrist, why?”
“Where?”
“Preacher, you’re scaring me.”
“Slaves of the Beast is run by Reaper. The guy who took you. You spoke to him. Where?”
“Back at the supermarket.” Before she had even finished, he spun the car around and she cried out. “Preacher, please, what is going on? I asked him if he knew me and he said no. Why would he lie?”
“Because you’re here with me. That’s fucking why.” He had his cell phone out and she heard Bear answer. “Reaper’s here. I need backup. Get the boys.”
“Preacher, I really don’t think this is necessary.”
“I’m not asking your fucking permission.”
They pulled up outside of the supermarket. Preacher unbuckled his seatbelt and she grabbed his arms. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m going in there and taking care of the son of a bitch who thought he could have you.”
“He had a kid with him. A young child,” she said. “Bethany.” Her heart raced. “What if I got it all wrong? You can’t just kill a child’s father.”
“No, there’s no way Reaper would have a kid. He hates kids.”
“The man I spoke to, he had a fucking kid with him.” She didn’t want to cause a scene or have a man hurt because of her. She felt sick to her stomach, scared, angry, and worried. All she wanted to do was to be free of all of it.
“You’ve got to be mistaken.”
“I know what I saw, Preacher, and I’m telling you, he had a kid.”
She turned to look behind her when bikes approached. She saw her father along with a couple of the men arrive.
“Please.”
“I’m sorry, Robin. This is the closest we’ve come to finally ending this, and not me or one of my boys are going to walk away from this opportunity.”
“Even when I ask you to?”
“Even then.”
He climbed out of the car, and Robin refused to be part of this. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she got out of the car, but instead of following after Preacher, she
walked away.
There was no way she was going to let him think for even a second she would accept this. She had asked for him not to pursue this man, and he’d done so anyway.
She left the supermarket and started the long walk back to town. She was pleased she wasn’t wearing heels. Most of the shoes within her closet were flat pumps or walking boots. Her past self was a practical woman, and she liked that about herself.
Robin didn’t know how long she’d been walking until Preacher finally decided to catch up to her. He rolled down the window and called her name.
She ignored him.
“You’re pissed at me, I get that. But I care about you.”
“You know, a lot of people keep throwing those words out at me as if they actually mean anything to me anymore. I care about you, Robin. What happens to you means something to me. Yet, no one is ever asking about what I want. What I’d like you to do. All of you are doing whatever it takes to appease yourself but not to help me. I don’t know who that man was but you were going to go after him. He had a young child.”
“If that was Reaper, aren’t you curious as to how he got the kid? For all you know, he could have kidnapped her.”
“Or maybe it’s my kid. You ever thought about that? What if during those two years I had a baby, Preacher? You could be killing my child.” She felt sick. She stopped walking, going a little light-headed.
“No, it’s not your child.”
“You don’t know that.”
“The man was gone. We couldn’t find him and we didn’t see any sign of a man walking into the supermarket. We checked the tapes.”
“I know what I saw.”
“Yeah, but did you see him go into the supermarket?”
“No.”
“Then we will never know if he’s the right man or not.”
“Do you think I’m lying?”
“Robin, I don’t know what to think.” He got out of the car, rushing to her side. “Please, get in. You’re clearly tired and need to lie down or something.” He stroked some of her hair behind her cheek.
“What if I didn’t speak to anyone?” she asked. “What if I’m seeing things?”
“You’re not. You’re exhausted. It’s all the extra hours at the library. You’re not sleeping well. You’re having nightmares every single night. You think I don’t know you’re falling apart and trying to pretend you’re holding it together? You don’t have to be strong for me.”