by Erin Osborne
“Awesome! Glad she finally had him. She’s been in labor for hours. You comin’ to the clubhouse tonight to celebrate with us?” Grinder questions me.
“Yeah. I have to drop Vic off at her apartment before I head there,” I answer him.
“Alright. See ya later,” he responds, slapping my hand before leaving my room.
Heading out to the front, Grinder walks past Victoria with his damn smile firmly in place. They exchange a few words before he leaves. I’m just far enough away I can’t make out clearly what is being said between them. Jealousy fills my body as I hear a laugh burst from Vic and she lowers her eyelids while watching him saunter out the door.
Everyone knows the guys in the club don’t pay for the tattoos I do on them. Instead, they come in get work done, and show off what I’ve done. They drum up business and send it my way. Especially the women they fuck. I used to love the women they’d send my way. I’ve had more than my fair share of sex in the small room I do tattoos in. Honestly, I’m not even proud of that fact. Not like I used to be. It’s disgusting and I haven’t had an inkling to fuck anyone since Vic and I started messing around. Now, my cock belongs to her and only her.
“Millie, you and Trevor good to close up shop tonight?” I ask her since he’s with a client and she’s not busy right now.
“Yeah. We know where everythin’ is and I’ll let you know once the alarm is set. Big night planned tonight?” she questions, with a smile on her face.
“You could say that. Gonna party with the brothers. Hollie had her baby today,” I respond, looking at Victoria to gauge her reaction.
Victoria flinches slightly from her position behind the desk. She doesn’t say a word or turn her attention toward me. I simply stand back while taking in her visual cues. Her body is rigid, breathing is speeding up, and there’s a slight tremble to her entire body.
“Vic, you ready to head home?” I ask her, walking closer as she tries to get herself under control.
“Yeah. I’m ready when you are. If you just want to go to the clubhouse, I’m good with walking home,” she informs me, reaching under the desk for her bag.
“Nope. I’ll take you home. See you guys tomorrow,” I state to Millie and Trevor who’s coming out of his room with his client.
“See ya later, man,” Trevor responds. “Victoria, we’ll see you in a few days.”
“Bye, guys,” she answers, ducking her head.
We walk out and make our way to my bike. I hand her the helmet so we can head out. The sooner I get her home, the earlier I’ll be able to get to the clubhouse and relax for the night. Getting on the bike, I immediately start the bike and pull out of the parking lot, heading for her apartment.
The ride literally takes two minutes from the shop. Rounding the back of her building where the parking lot is, Victoria tenses up around me. Scanning the parking lot, I don’t see anyone lingering or anything out of the ordinary. When I pull up by her stairs, Victoria hops off my bike as I shut the engine off.
“You gonna be okay?” I question her, taking the helmet once she gets it off her head.
“Yeah. I’m always okay. You don’t have to worry about me, Tags. I’ll always land on my feet,” she responds, a fake as hell smile on her face.
“If you need me, call,” I demand, knowing in my heart she won’t.
“I’m not gonna interrupt your plans for the night. Go to the clubhouse and have fun. I’ll see you in a few days,” Vic tells me, turning and walking up the stairs.
I wait until she’s through her door. Once she’s inside her apartment, I put my helmet on, turn the bike on, and rev the engine a few times before leaving her apartment. Leaving the parking lot, I make my way to the clubhouse. The wind rushing over me relaxes me after the long day at the shop. It could’ve been a lot longer which is normal for me. Today is a special day and I plan on having a few drinks and then crashing. No one will be in my room with me. My goal tonight isn’t to fuck a house bunny, it’s to spend time with my brothers, eating, and having a good night without any worries or cares.
Chapter Nine
Victoria
THE LAST TWO days have been spent in a drunken haze. I haven’t seen or heard from Tags, my brothers, or anyone else in the club. Not that I really expected to. Hollie just had the baby, which means the club will be spending time with her little family or celebrating at the clubhouse. They don’t need a reason to celebrate, but that’s a really good one.
Honestly, I’m happy for Hollie and Capone. They get to spend the rest of their lives loving and caring for a little one. A son I believe. Right now, I can’t be around them. It’s been months since I lost my own baby, but it’s still just as fresh as the day it happened. Things might be different if it hadn’t been for Scott and what he would say to me. The way he treated me, as if I weren’t a woman simply because I had a miscarriage. That’s what I can’t get past because maybe he’s right.
While no one has come to visit me or check in, I’ve been getting lost in the bottom of one bottle after another. My apartment is trashed once more. I don’t give a flying fuck about it either. I haven’t gotten dressed or anything since Tags brought me home and dropped me off. I’ve been blissfully unaware and able to sleep at night while I’ve been drunk to the point I simply pass out wherever I’m at.
Scott hasn’t left me alone. I’ve gotten several more messages from him. Some I’ve read, while others have been left unopened. The ones I’ve taken a look at have been horrendous, telling me in great detail how he’s going to defile me, torture me, and then send extremely small pieces of me to my brothers. Honestly, all that’s going to accomplish is getting him killed. Torch and Pyro will hunt him down until he’s dead. They will take out anyone who gets in their way and not give a flying fuck who it is.
I know this would all stop if I just let them know what’s going on. While a part of me doesn’t want to get anyone hurt. Especially my brothers or Tags. The rest of me doesn’t want to let them in on that part of my life because of how stupid I’ve been when it comes to Scott. Pyro is the only one who met him. It was hate at first sight between the two men. My brother is obviously protective of me, that’s not what the problem was though. When we talked afterwards, Pyro said Scott looked familiar. Plus, he said there were bad vibes coming from him. That’s why Torch never got the chance to meet him.
If Pyro has a feeling, he’s usually right. The one time he didn’t listen to those feelings, he lost everything. His entire world shattered in a matter of seconds because he was a fraction of a second too late. It’s not my story to share though. Pyro is dealing with the situation the only way he knows how; protecting those he loves more than his own life. Our family is forever fractured and I’m not sure if we’ll ever be able to put it back together.
I haven’t had anything to drink yet today because I don’t want to go into work drunk tomorrow. I’ve already done that and won’t do it again. While Tags knows what I’m doing, if I show up at Blazing Ink again still drunk from the night before, he’s not going to hold off on pushing me the way he has been. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to talk in detail about what’s happened. Unless I’m pushed to the point I have to let someone in on my secrets.
As I’m sitting on the couch, thinking about everything I should be doing, things that have gone wrong, and how my life is spiraling out of control, my phone rings from the table in front of me. Pushing away the empty bottles, I grab it. An unknown number is on the screen and I’m not sure if I should answer it or not. Ignoring my gut, I press the accept button and place the phone to my ear.
Heavy breathing fills the line. My body instantly begins to tremble with fear. A small squeak escapes before I can swallow it down. Deep, menacing laughter replaces the heavy breathing. Sweat begins to pour from my body, I’m shaking worse than before, my palms are soaked, heart rate is beating so rapidly it’s as though it will beat straight through my chest any second, and my head is spinning.
I have no choice but to contact someo
ne now. Hanging up the phone, I toss it to the opposite end of the sofa so I can pull myself together. There are only three people I can call about this shitshow; Tags, Torch, or Pyro. Tags is the least intimidating out of the three. Making my decision, I reach for my phone even though my breathing is still erratic, and I feel out of control.
“’Lo,” Tags answers his phone on the first ring.
“I need you,” I mutter, my voice wavering as my breathing picks back up.
“What’s wrong?” he questions as I hear a door slam and muted talking in the background.
“I can’t talk about it over the phone,” I inform him, not wanting him to get angry before he gets here. “Are you done with work?”
I didn’t even think about him being at work when making the call to him. I’m such an idiot.
“Don’t worry about that. You need me, I’m there,” he states. “Be there in two minutes.”
Tags hangs up his phone while I begin to pace the open space of the living room. There’s so much nervous energy flowing with me as I realize what I’m about to do. When Tags gets here, I’ll be laying my soul out to him. I don’t believe for a second he’ll stick with me once that happens. He’ll know all my dirty little secrets, the shame and guilt I live with on a daily basis.
I don’t have a chance to get too lost in my head. Tags wasn’t wrong when he said he’d be here in two minutes. Pounding sounds on my door, bringing out of my head as tears already fill my eyes. I practically run to the door, unlock it, and pull it open. Tags makes his way inside, his eyes frantically searching the areas he can see of the apartment for a sign of danger.
“No one’s here,” I state, as tears continue to stream down my cheeks, hitting my shirt and the floor at my feet.
“What’s goin’ on?” he questions me again as I walk over to the couch and take a seat.
I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself. I’m trying to make myself as small as possible.
“I need to tell you something. There’s been things going on with me for months now. Things I’ve kept quiet because no one else needs to know,” I begin. “It’s why I’ve been drinking so much. Why I push you away and the reason for my freak out the other night. For you to understand everything, I have to start at the beginning though.”
“I’ll listen to whatever you tell me. Then we’ll make a decision about how best to handle the situation. You have to realize now I’ll probably have to take this to the club. If there are parts I can leave out, I will,” he informs me, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.
Nodding my head, I take a few deep breaths to calm the anxiety already filling me. After what seems like hours, I finally begin to share my story.
“When I was in college, I met Scott. We hit it off when we became study partners for a class project. Study dates turned into regular dates, going to parties, hanging out between classes, that kind of stuff. He was polite, sweet, prompt, everything the complete opposite of my brothers. Or so I thought.
“By the time I was starting my senior year, he was already done with his degree and out looking for a job. We ended up moving in together into the house he had been given from his parents for graduating. Still, everything seemed to be okay. I mean, he spent hours at night out of the house, wouldn’t tell me what he was doing or who he was with. If I asked him about it, he’d get pissed, but didn’t lay a hand on me.
“I was almost done with my senior year when I found out I was pregnant. We were both over the moon about the baby. Scott started staying home more, talked about getting married, and was very attentive. He didn’t want me to finish the school year out, but understood that I only had a few months left and would barely be showing by the time I was done,” I begin, knowing I’m getting to the hard part, the tears begin flowing harder.
I stop talking for a few minutes so I can get myself under control. I’m crying those big, fat tears, and hiccupping from crying so hard while trying to hold it all inside me. My heart is breaking from the pain flowing through my veins as memories of the night I lost my baby surface. I want to get up and drink, but I can’t afford to. This is too important and for the first time in a long time, I see how much I need to feel this pain. To realize it’s not going to consume every part of my life forever if I get it out. Well, that’s my hope anyway.
Tags doesn’t say a word as I collect myself. Looking at him, I can see a myriad of emotions flitting across his face. There’s pain, anger, sadness, pity, and something I can’t identify in this moment.
“One night, I was home alone studying for a test in my business class. Sharp pains began shooting through my abdomen. I tried to call Scott, but he didn’t answer his phone. The only thought filling me was fear I was going to lose my baby. Several times I tried to call him. Eventually he must have shut his phone off because the calls began going to voicemail. I ended up calling an ambulance because he had my car that night. His was in the shop.
“By the time I got to the hospital and was examined, there was nothing they could do for me. I was already losing my baby. They helped the process along. I won’t go into details about it, but it wasn’t pretty. In that moment, I was lost, scared, alone, in pain, and my heart was shattering in a million pieces for my loss.
“Scott finally called me back while I was in the hospital. He came to see me and was filled with sorrow and pain while we were still inside the emergency room. It wasn’t long before they released me to go home. That’s when everything changed. Scott became violent and angry in the car. He drove us home, barely speaking to me as he concentrated on the road. The only reason I knew how he was feeling is because of the way he was holding the steering wheel, his eyes were narrowed, and his entire body was vibrating with his anger.
“He didn’t help me through the door since I could barely move. When I finally made it through the door, he began calling me vile names, telling me I wasn’t even a woman since I couldn’t carry a baby full-term. That was also the first time he laid his hands on me. Scott beat the shit out of me, hitting and kicking out at every part of my body he could reach. I should’ve gone back to the hospital. Instead, I waited for him to fall asleep so I could go to urgent care. I ended up with a sprained wrist, black eye, and cut just past my hairline. I’m not even sure what he hit me with.
“The very next day, he kicked me out of the house. I had the money to move, but none of my stuff was packed, I could barely move from the miscarriage followed by his savage beating, and he wasn’t there. He left and made sure one of his friends were there so he could make sure I didn’t steal anything that wasn’t mine or damage any of Scott’s belongings. I packed what was most important to me, which was almost everything, leaving the rest because I simply didn’t care about it.
“Scott’s words consumed me over the next few weeks as I found a place to live, finished school, and tried to move on with my life. During that time, I started drinking because it was the only way to deal with the words on a loop. That’s the only time I didn’t hear his cold, menacing voice filling my every thought. Now, when I don’t drink, everything rushes back full force. Every image I can hold at bay while I’m buzzed or drunk, I don’t have to see them or hear his words. It’s not like I drink heavy every single day. Some days, I have just a drink or two so I can shut his voice up. It all depends on how I’m feeling that day. From there, I’d go to club’s or bars and pick up random men to fuck. I didn’t want anything other than a quick fuck and didn’t really care where it happened. Since then, I’ve been tested. I never would’ve started anything with you if I hadn’t been.
“Now, he’s messaging me all sorts of messed-up things. Just before I called you, he called me for the first time with an unknown number. He only breathed heavy in the phone until I made a sound, then he started laughing. I’m pretty sure that’s who messed with my car too,” I finally finish saying.
My entire body is trembling worse than before, I can’t look at Tags, my heart is racing, I’m sweating, and the only thing I want is to g
rab the closest bottle so I can chug it down. Instead, I remain sitting where I am, curled in on myself in the corner of the couch. Tags hasn’t moved, but the air surrounding us has changed. It’s charged with anger, rage, pain, and tension.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he finally says, his voice almost a whisper as he pulls me into his arms.
For the longest time, Tags simply holds me as I cry out every ounce of pain I should have been dealing with over the last few months. This is honestly the first time I’ve started to grieve the loss I suffered. The man next to me doesn’t say anything, he simply holds me until I pull from his arms to compose myself.
“Can I see the messages?” he questions me. “We’ll get to the rest of it later on. And you’ll be comin’ home with me tonight. No arguin’ about it either.”
Nodding my head, I grab my phone and hand it over to him. He pulls up Scott’s messages and scrolls through them. I can see anger flashing in his eyes with every message he reads. His hands are holding my phone so tight, I feel as if my phone is going to break from his force. I sit back while he reads every dreadful, painful, hate fueled message. Even the ones I have no clue what they say.
“Baby, go pack a bag. The first thing we need to address is your drinkin’. See, what you don’t know is my mom was an alcoholic. I lived with her for years drinkin’ to the point she became a functionin’ alcoholic. When that stopped bein’ enough, she turned to drugs. Eventually, she died from an overdose. I refuse to let you follow her path even though you didn’t know her. For now, I won’t say a word to your brothers about this. However, I am goin’ to take the shit about Scott harrassin’ you to the club so we can handle it. No fightin’ me on this, Victoria,” he informs me after handing back my phone. “You aren’t goin’ to fight your demons alone anymore. I’ll be there by your side as much as possible.”
“I can’t expect that of you,” I state, surprised he’s still here, talking to me.