Is it? Is it really? It feels like nothing is ever going to be okay again.
Glancing back at Charity, she’s looking at me now, a sinister grin on her face. “All these years, I had you fooled. You thought I loved you.”
“No!” I scream loudly, refusing to believe it.
“Drew!”
That’s when I wake up, gasping for air, sweat pouring off my body, my heart pumping like I’ve run five miles.
“Drew,” Charity whispers, grabbing my hand. “It’s okay, just a bad dream.”
“Yeah,” I agree, running my free hand through my hair. “Just a bad dream.”
We don’t talk about the dreams. Mostly because I don’t want to, and she never truly pushes it. Reaching over, she turns off the bedside lamp, curling in next to me.
After a dream, I always have to hold her.
“It’s gonna be okay,” she repeats.
But again, I have that same thought.
Is it? Is it really?
Chapter One
Charity
“He’s not sleeping.” I sigh heavily, taking a liberal drink of my coffee.
“Are any of us?” Mandy tilts her own cup. “All of us have been on edge since this all started.”
That day had been just like this one in so many ways. The beginning of July had come in with a bang; we’d had thunderstorms and rain for forty-eight hours straight. As I’d gotten off work that afternoon, the sun came out, shining bright and hot.
“Are you going to open your sunroof?” Mandy teases as we leave through the back door of the office.
Pretending like I’m thinking about it, I nod enthusiastically. “I can’t believe I got this new SUV a week ago and haven’t been able to open up the damn sunroof yet. Harley and Justice have been asking every day I’ve picked them up. It’s damn near broken their heart every time I’ve had to say no.”
“It’s a gorgeous evening.” She turns in a circle, holding her arms out wide. “I might try to convince Dalton to let us take a ride.” She lifts her eyebrows up, winking.
“Somehow I don’t think you’re talking about just riding the bike.” I laugh loudly.
“My husband does have a nice dick, I love to it ride as much as his bike.” She snorts as we both giggle. “See you tomorrow, sis,” she yells as she slips into her car.
I wave, hiking up the skirt of my dress as I hitch myself into the driver’s seat of the new SUV. Drew has promised he’ll get an automatic step put in for me, but until then, I’m doing the best I can to get up in it.
It’s evening, but the twilight allows for me to see the lights of my dash. Blue washes against my skin as I try to remember how to start the ignition. My last vehicle was older and definitely didn’t have all the bells and whistles this one does. Once I get the engine running, I open the sun roof, find my favorite radio station, and crank it up. Checking behind me, I pull out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic around the main square.
As I drive past Harper’s bakery, I honk, waving as she closes up shop for the night, before heading toward CRISIS. Tatum watched the girls for me today, so I make a point to stop and grab her one of the drinks she likes from the nearby Sonic.
“Mom!” I hear it immediately after parking.
Justice is mine through and through. Just like Harley’s is Drew’s. The one running for me now is Harley, so I’m a bit suspicious. Getting out, I wait for her, allowing her to grab me around the waist.
“How was your day?” I hug her tightly, pushing an escaped piece of hair back from her face.
“It was good, but Dad said if we got home early enough tonight, he would take me out for a ride.”
So that’s what this is about. This morning, Drew took the girls to Tatum’s, and he must have had to do some bargaining with this one.
“Did he?”
“Yeah.” She nods, letting me go to put her hands on her hips. “He promised.”
“And he can’t break a promise, can he?” I tease, pulling on her braid.
“No.” She folds those arms over her chest. “He can’t.”
“Let’s go get your sister.” I herd her toward the CRISIS building while pulling my phone out of my purse, firing off a quick text to Drew.
C: You better be home when we get there. Harley wants her ride.
D: Son of a bitch, I was hoping she’d forget about that and let me take you on one.
C: I’ll call mom over later on tonight to sit with the kids while they sleep. Then we can go? I’d love to go with you, it’s been a while.
D: Too long, babe, way to fuckin’ long. I’ll meet you at home. Love you.
C: Love you too!
Tatum greets me with a hug as I come in. “How were they today?”
I hand her the drink I brought her, which she immediately puts the straw in, taking a healthy drink.
“A lot of help, actually,” she admits, as she hands Justice a bag.
“What’s that?”
Justice opens the bag, filling the room with the smell of cinnamon and apples. “Harper came to teach a baking class. I helped, and she gave me the leftovers.”
It always strikes me as funny when it comes to my two girls. How different they both can be, but talk about one of them behind their back and the other one hear about it? You better be prepared to get your ass whooped. Neither one of them stand for it.
“I can’t wait to have those for dessert tonight. We can warm them up and put some vanilla ice cream on top, sound good?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” She waves to Tatum.
Together, Justice and Harley run across the parking lot to the SUV, hand in hand.
“It’s funny how they can be arguing one minute and best friends the next.” Tatum shakes her head as she watches them.
“Were they arguing today? They’ve been doing a little more than normal lately. We’ve had to get in the middle of things more than we like to.”
Last time it took Drew over an hour to calm down and me a half-glass of wine.
“Good luck girl, they’re almost teenagers.”
“Please don’t remind me.” I grab my wallet out of my purse, giving her some money.”
“They’re my nieces,” she argues, trying to give me the money back. “You don’t have to pay me to watch them.”
“Don’t argue with me, I know you and Remy are saving up. It’s still cheaper than it would have been at the daycare even for a day. Just take it and appreciate it, Tatum.”
Leaning over she kisses me on the cheek. “Love you, and thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You’re a good friend, helping out while Addie is gone. Have a good night with your man.”
She winks. “You too.”
A bright smile on my face and my head held high, I walk over, getting into the SUV. The girls are arguing over which radio station to put it on as I start it up.
“How about I get to pick which radio station it goes on? How about that?”
“Moooommmm, your music is so old.”
“When did Britney Spears get old?”
“When grandma Jasmine was dancing to her at Wet Wanda’s,” Harley tells me dead ass with not even a grin.
“You” - I point at her - “have got to stop hanging out with your dad.”
“Maybe I don’t want to stop hanging out with Dad.” She grabs hold of the handle above her seat as we turn onto Porter Pike.
“Maybe you don’t get a choice,” I fire back at her.
Justice is trying to get my attention, but like normal, Harley and I are in the middle of a battle, which is crazy, considering I’m the mom and she’s the child.
“I’d rather hang out with him than go to daycare.” She crosses her arms, giving me a look that could have come straight from Drew Walker’s face.
“You don’t get to pick, Harley.”
“I’m old enough, I should get to choose what I want to do.”
Justice is grabbing at my arm. “Not now!”
“Mom, look out!”
“Is everybody okay?” I turn my emergency flashers on, taking stock of everything that’s happened. We’re not even that far into the ditch, so hopefully I didn’t hurt my brand-new SUV.
“I’m okay,” Harley sniffles. “Sorry we were arguing.”
“I’m okay too.” Justice wipes at her nose. “Are you, Mom?”
“Totally fine, and I’m sorry we were arguing. Let’s call Dad and see what we need to do.”
It’s then that I notice a car has parked on the shoulder of the road, facing opposite of us. A man has gotten out and has approached.
“Are you okay? The driver did that on purpose, I have it all on my dash cam.” He points to his sports car. “I keep one so when people are dumbasses, just because I drive a sports car, I have record of it. I got his plate.”
Something tells me Drew will want to know who this person was. Before I can even make the phone call, Drew’s face is flashing on my cell.
“Hey, we’re okay,” I answer, figuring someone has seen us and told him about the accident.
“You’re okay? Did something happen to you too?”
“What do you mean, me too?”
“The shop, the bakery, and the salon got hit.”
My stomach drops. “Oh my God, is everyone okay?”
“Everyone doesn’t matter right now. Are you okay? What about the girls?”
“We’re fine. We’re in a ditch on Porter Pike.”
Before I can say anything else, I hear the pissed-off, clipped tone of the man I love. “Be right there.”
And that was the day everything changed.
Chapter Two
Drew
“You look like hell.” Dalton pushes at my elbow as he takes a seat beside me on the picnic tables behind Walker’s Wheels.
May has come in, warm and muggy, reminding me we’re close to a year. Almost a year since we’ve been living in fear. I take a drag off my cigarette, blowing smoke away from his face before turning back. “Thanks for your concern, honey. Maybe I’ll look into Botox for these crow’s feet.” I flash a middle finger at him.
He glares. Even though he’s wearing sunglasses, I know he glares. That’s what being friends with someone for more years than you can remember does. “Fuckin’ smartass,” he mumbles. “Not what I meant, you son of a bitch, and you know it. You look like you’re not sleeping again.”
Sighing, I put my cigarette up to my lips, taking another drag. This one I hold for a moment, allowing the nicotine to run through my veins and hope like fuck it calms me down. “Didn’t sleep for shit last night.”
His eyebrows raise at the last night admission. Both of us know it’s been longer than one night. It’s been off and on since the attack. Little things will trigger it and it’s like I can’t let it go. Probably because I don’t want to let it go. I’m desperate to get back at this half-brother I don’t know.
“Same dream?”
“Same goddamn dream.” I throw the butt on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with the toe of my shit kickers. Only problem with them is they haven’t kicked any shit lately and I’m ready to throw down on some asshole who deserves it.
“It wouldn’t hurt if you talked to somebody.” He treads so lightly even I can tell the motive behind his words.
“Like Doc Jones? She finally retired.” I take another cigarette from my pack, light it up, and smoke away. “I’m not taking my problems to her door when she’s finally gotten rid of this damn club.”
“But doesn’t she have someone she was training?”
He keeps on just enough to send me over the edge.
“Why won’t you let this shit go?” My voice is louder than I mean for it to be.
“Because you can’t go on like this. Revenge and retribution are fueling you, Drew. It’s feeding you, and I don’t like who it’s making you into. You’re not the guy I’ve always counted on to make sound decisions. This shit is making you vulnerable, and not in a good way.”
Truth is, I don’t like who it’s making me into either, but I also remember the fucking almost panic attack I had when I heard Charity and the girls were in the ditch on Porter Pike. That day, I saw life as I know it flash before my eyes. I imagined the rest of my time on earth without them, and it was the bleakest, most jarring premonition I’ve ever had.
“I’m dealing with it.” I grab up the food I only took a few bites of, throwing it away, before I lever myself off the picnic table.
“Looks like you’re dealing with it real well, Drew.” His voice taunts my back as I walk away.
Most of the guys are out to lunch; the garage is silent, except for a radio someone left playing in the background. I take a seat in the shadows, avoiding the sunshine of the day. The silence has been deafening at times, so loud in my head I haven’t been able to escape it. But today that damn radio is on my nerves. Without thinking I pull the gun I carry and fire at it, relieved when there truly is silence.
Now hopefully everyone will leave me the fuck alone.
“Busy day, huh?”
Glancing up, I see my dad. He walks slowly, like he doesn’t want to spook me. I’ve noticed a lot of people are treating me this way lately, like I’m about to blow.
“Every day seems to be a busy day.”
He has a seat across from me. The truth is I don’t want him to see me. I don’t want him to see what the hell is going on. Instead of giving him my attention, I get up and walk out of the garage. He follows me, but I don’t have the claustrophobic feeling as I look at the cloudless blue sky. When my eyes water, I look down. The dirt path worn by us walking to and from the bays back here to take breaks. There are pebbles resting up against the concrete blocks of the building. The blocks are no longer white after years of rain and wear. The dirt has left its stain, the white fading into a baby shit brown at the bottom.
“It’s always going to be busy when you’re running from something, Drew.”
Goddamn how does he always know? How does he know me better than anyone else? This man who didn’t meet me until I was a teenager. He’s always known what I need, always been the person I’ve gone to when shit scared me, but this time I’m supposed to be the leader. “Not running from shit.”
Carefully he reaches into his pocket, grabs out a cigarette and a lighter. I watch as he lights it, taking the hit of nicotine. He closes his eyes, savoring the rush.
“You know the doctor said you shouldn’t be smoking, not after the pneumonia,” I remind him, repeating everything Mom says when she knows he’s not listening. Maybe if we say it enough he’ll finally hear it.
That’s another thing that’s killing me. Seeing my parents get older, knowing they aren’t going to be around for fucking ever. Liam Walker has always been the biggest man in the room to me. His presence has been larger than life, nothing would ever threaten the control he has. Until last winter. Dad got sick; it started with a cough that turned into bronchitis, and then pneumonia. He’d been hospitalized and then warned he would have to cut back, or even quit smoking, because damage had been done to his lungs. All of us had been scared to death, not sure how to handle him when he’d been in the hospital. Granted he got colds and the flu like we all do, but that had been a wake-up call. Mom made sure of: it no smoking anytime. He’s supposed to be wearing a damn patch.
“Same doctor told me I shouldn’t be fucking my wife anymore either because it’s too strenuous, but guess what.” He raises an eyebrow, the side of his mouth tilting up.
“Jesus H,” I laugh. “Do you remember when I was a teenager and you said you didn’t want to know what I was doin’ behind closed doors? Same applies to our relationship now.”
He takes a hit, before turning the glowing stick around, offering it to me. Smoking is some
thing I’ve tried to cut back on, because of what’s happened with Dad. In the back of my mind I’m wondering if I’m helping by sharing it with him, or if it’s fucking corrupting me by making me feel like I’m helping. We share the cigarette until it’s done, him throwing the butt down on the ground, smashing it with the heel of his motorcycle boot. He readjusts, staring at me.
“What?”
Just like when I was younger, I can’t take that stare. It’s just on the other side of a glare, and always makes me feel like I’m a teenager again.
“You are running, Drew. You won’t talk to anyone about what happened, and that shit will eat you alive.”
“Not you too.”
“My concern, no matter what’s happened with this club, has always been for you. You’re my son, and I will always care about what’s going on with you. Which brings me to my next question, what the fuck is going on with you?”
Nobody knows about the information I’ve discovered. I’ve kept it to myself, because I’m trying to figure out what the fuck to do with it. Feelings I thought I’d buried back before I even came to live with Heaven Hill have resurfaced, and I’m doing my best to live my motherfuckin’ life. It used to be I could have a smile on my face, but now there’s a demon where that smile used to be. Anger, rage, retribution - it all eats at me.
And maybe he’s right. Maybe I do need to get it out. But I wanna get it out on my own terms. “Can we go for a ride?” I question, that same uncertainty of the teenage boy still there. “I know it’s the middle of the day and we’re busy as shit, but can we go for a ride?”
The surprise is evident on his face. It’s been a long time since I asked if we could go on a ride. But his answer is exactly what I want to hear.
“Whatever you need, son. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
Chapter Three
Fury Page 2