Bound by Vengeance

by Ryan Michele

  I look around, searching for her husband. It’s more for show than actuality because I wouldn’t be here if he was.

  “Whatnot hanging out with wives three, twelve, and twenty-four today?”

  “Matthew, that’s enough.” Her scold is nothing to me, though I bet it works on my siblings. They’re stuck, and that is something that scrapes my balls.

  A chuckle escapes. “Just stating the obvious.”

  “You have no right to dictate my life.” She looks me up and down, the corner of her lip rising. “I mean, look at you.”

  Holding my arms out wide, I let her have a good look. “What ya see is what ya get, Ma.”

  “Do you have it?” Her question comes out fast as she peers out the window, no doubt looking for anyone who might see my bike in the driveway. She lives in a well-populated neighborhood, but I’d bet my right nut no one knows what goes on behind these closed doors.

  “What? No hug?”

  Her eyes narrow briefly, but she catches herself, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a long time.”

  “Two months, Ma, and you still won’t let me see my brothers and sisters.” There are six of them, and it’s been years since I’ve been allowed to see them or talk to them. Seventeen to be exact.

  “James doesn’t feel it’s a good idea.” She moves around her small house, beginning to pick up some magazines and organize them on the small table in front of the couch.

  “And we always do what he says, right?” That’s just a small part of it. My sperm donor is a piece of shit in every sense of the word. I can’t fucking stand him, yet my mother seems to love him. Truth is, I think she’s brainwashed to do so.

  She’s been with him for over thirty years. That does a lot to a woman’s mentality. Considering she’s only forty-nine, that’s some sick shit right there. She had me at eighteen, her first.

  “He’s my husband. It’s ordained. It’s faith. God chose, and this is the path we are meant to take,” she protests, pulling up to her small height, her chin up.

  Not a lot I admire about my mother anymore, but her determination is still there. He hasn’t completely destroyed that yet, but it will happen in time. If only she’d just change her mind and get out.

  “Yeah, you and what is it, four, eight, twelve? It’s been a long time since we’ve had this conversation; his numbers have to be up there.”

  “How many sister-wives I have isn’t your business, Matthew. I appreciate your help—we all do—but you can’t come in here and dictate our lives.”

  Crossing my arms, I stare at the woman who brought me into this world, took care of me, worked three jobs, and still does to put food on the table, and who read me stories before bed when she could.

  Her tired eyes droop, and I can’t help wondering when was the last time she had a good night’s sleep. She’s probably up worrying about her asshat and what he’s doing with his other “wives.” He’s not really married to them. Instead, he says they are “spiritual soul mates,” whatever the fuck that means. He only has one wife who he’s legally bound to, and it isn’t my mother, who’s number two.

  “You know, I don’t give a shit how many women want to put up with that fucker. Hell, the more the merrier. What I care about is the fucked-up mess you’re putting my brothers and sisters in. When your biological father is also your uncle, that shit is fucked up and twisted.” That’s just one of the fucked-up things going on in this cult. Yeah, that’s what it is. I don’t give a shit who says any different. Living it, I have a right to my opinions.

  My biological father’s, mom’s husband, first wife is my aunt, my mother’s sister who is two years older than her. Yeah, so my fucking cousins are also my half-siblings. That shit is wacked. I’m down with a lot of stuff in this life, but that isn’t one of them.

  Tears pool in her eyes, but she doesn’t allow them to fall. Another thing is, she’s strong.

  “Breanna turns sixteen in a couple of months,” she reminds me.

  Anger burrows as the bottom of my stomach falls to the ground like a brick. Fear has hit me a few times in my life. Seeing Austyn tied up was definitely one of them. Breanna turning sixteen is another.

  Taking a step closer, her eyes lift to mine.

  “Don’t let it happen, Ma. I’m serious as a heart attack. You’re the only one who can stop it and make this right.”

  My heart feels as if a machete is having a fun time piercing through it as the past comes back to rock me on my heels. Guilt lays at my feet and eats me from the inside out.

  I’d lost touch with my mother for a while because I was pissed as hell at her. During that time, shit happened that I can never change. That’s on me. I can’t let the same thing happen to Breanna. Not remembering her birthday is on me too. The weight on my shoulders gets heavier.

  “It’s already in the works, Matthew, and you have no say.”

  The robotic way she says those words eats at me. That’s him talking, not her. After this long, she just thinks it is. That pisses me off. She may as well be one of those zombies on that damn television show Cooper’s woman likes to watch.

  “No. She deserves to choose who she wants to be with in this life. Not the other way around, and definitely not a fucking cousin, uncle, or what-the-fuck-ever-else he concocts. That shit is not right, and you know it. You saw Samantha go through it. You can’t want that for Breanna. You can stop this.”

  She gives out a loud sigh. “No, I can’t. It’s time for you to go.”

  “You want me to take my money with me?”

  Fear and panic crosses her features as her hand goes up to her neck. I know she needs it. She always needs it because her piece of shit husband doesn’t provide for her and my siblings. It baffles me why she stays, why she puts up with his shit. But, at this point, there’s nothing I can do. She continues to work her ass off for nothing; that’s her choice.

  “Please, Matthew.” Her words are whispered, and I hate that, as well. If I could give her a fucking backbone, I would.

  Reaching in my pocket, I pull out the wad of money and hold it out to her. She takes it quickly, as if it’s a mirage and if she doesn’t get it that moment, it will disappear. Truth, I’d give it to her, anyway. She needs it. My siblings need it.

  I’m the oldest. Then there is Samantha, who is twenty-five and married off. Breanna, who’s turning sixteen. Ashley, who’s eleven. Brian, who’s nine. And Adam, the youngest, is seven. It’s a huge age gap, and with my mom’s age now, she doesn’t need to be popping out any more.

  “Right. It’s been fun.” I turn and walk through the door, knowing my time here is done.

  It always ends this way, because she chooses it to. Once, I thought she might just have the balls to actually let me see my brothers and sisters, but that was just hope, the one thing with my family a person should not have.

  “Thank you,” she says as I face her again.

  “I’m fuckin’ serious about Breanna. You can do something. You’re not helpless.” My look turns icy. By her small gasp, she sees it.

  Saying nothing else, I get the fuck out of there.

  It’s the fucking truth. I’ll do whatever it takes to get my sister out of that shit. Samantha was already gone before I could, but Breanna … she won’t live this shit if she doesn’t want to.

  My phone pings with a text.

  Carley: I want to party.

  Me: And …

  Carley: Pick me up.

  Me: And do what with you?

  Carley: Take me to the clubhouse, idiot.

  I chuckle, sending her a text about the party coming up and that I’ll pick her up for it. My cousin got out of this cult life a couple of years ago and looked me up. It took her a while to get her head on straight after being with all those fuckers for so long, but she’s adjusted well and loves to party.

  Personally, I don’t give a fuck. She wants to screw my club brothers, so be it. At least I know she’s safe.

  Funny how life decides to toss shi
t in your face, but keeps right on moving. At least Carley was able to shake it off her and live a life that she wants. It’s my job to make sure Breanna gets that chance too.

  I’ll do whatever it takes for family.

  Chapter Four

  “That goes in my bedroom,” Emery directs her brother and my older cousin, Deke, in our new apartment. Buzz and Breaker, who are techy kings, came in and did their thing, then taught us how to work the system. We have remotes on our phones and everything. Neither Emery nor I can see the cameras, but we know they’re here.

  The entire time we’ve been moving, all I’ve gotten out of Deke is a grunt. One was when he got here, acknowledging my existence. At least there’s that, even if it’s not much.

  Pulling him aside and talking to him is a must, but not with all these people around. Love my family, but some things are better left unknown. Some things, you take to the grave.

  I haven’t talked to Deke since it happened, and I feel guilty for that. He blames himself for the fucker coming at me, but that’s just not the case. He doesn’t need to hold that burden; the asshole who hurt me does. He’s one of the few I truly trust, and his avoidance hurts, but I have no one to blame but myself.

  “How much shit do you need?” my oldest brother Cooper asks, carrying one end of the couch.

  “Yeah, there’s, like, two other couches down there. Where’re they gonna go?” my twin brother Nox says from the other end of the couch. Got to love brothers. Or, at least their strong arms.

  “Let me educate you. This is a couch, the smaller one downstairs is a loveseat, and the other is a recliner. They aren’t all couches.” I point to where the piece needs to go, and they set it down not so gently.

  “Let me educate you.” Nox leans in threateningly, not that he scares me, though it would to normal people.

  I just stop myself from the eye roll.

  Being twins, we have a special connection, yet he gives me shit whenever possible. It must be in the brother rulebook or something.

  “I don’t give a flyin’ fuck what’s what. Once this shit gets up here, I’m out.”

  I tap the side of his face. “Aw, love you, too, baby brother.”

  “By one fuckin’ minute! And you still bust my damn balls about it,” he gripes, but he’s not pissed. It’s something we joke about regularly. I was born before, yes briefly, but it counts, and holding it over him is for pure entertainment purposes.

  “Nice goat.” I move my hand back and forth in the air next to me like I’m petting a goat at my feet.

  Cooper chuckles. This is an inside joke between the three of us and our parents. It’s a play off the got your goat saying that I heard growing up from my grandpa, Pops. Whenever any of us snags the other in a verbal blow, we make a deal about it and say nice goat.

  “Fuck off,” Nox says with a smile then heads back out the door.

  Looking around at our new place, I take in the light cream walls in the wide-open space that is the kitchen, living, and dining areas. The recessed lighting along the ceiling adds to the warm feel. There is no fireplace, which in Georgia, who needs one? Though, there is a very large balcony off the living room area where we can fit a couple of chairs for relaxation.

  When we first walked in, it was pretty bland, but now, with our things coming in and getting placed around the room, it’s coming alive.

  Mine and Emery’s parents show up and help out, but I specifically asked that no one else from the club come. It’s not that I don’t want to see them. It’s just the questions they are dying to ask. Moving on is hard enough with all the bullshit that could come along with it.

  After pizza and beer, I make my move to Deke, sucking in a deep breath as I do. Cooper already left and some of the others are starting to get up, too, but Deke needs to stay.

  Sliding up to him, I ask, “Can you stay for a few after?”

  “After what?”

  Deke is a rock of a man. He used to be an underground fighter and was estranged from the family for years, until I went to him for help. Dragging him home didn’t make him happy, and me shutting him out these past few of months really hasn’t made him any happier, or so Emery’s told me.

  When we got home, Deke had to face a lot of shit from his father. Then he learned that his mother had cancer. Not to mention the club and coming to terms with the reason he left in the first place, namely JK. It wasn’t an easy road for him, and I added to that hardship.

  As much as I wanted to talk to him before, something held me back. It’s time to clear that up.

  I look up at him. “They leave. Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  He pulls out his phone, looking at the time. “Need to be back to Rylie in an hour. Let’s go now.”

  “Right.”

  When we leave, nothing is said by anyone except for goodbyes. I hop into his monster of a truck, and he fires it up. It feels like old times.

  “Where are we going?” I ask in a rush when I wake up to find we are flying down the road in Deke’s truck.

  “Home.”

  Anger bubbles inside me, along with a twinge of fear. “You asshole! You told me I could stay with you.” I move to get the seatbelt off, only thinking one thing—must get out of this truck.

  He reaches over and grabs my arm, tightly holding me in place. Damn man is too strong for his own good. “No, I said you could stay last night. Already called Nox, and he’s expecting us.”

  “Fuck, Deke, do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I groan, falling back to the seat and dropping my head onto the back window with a thump. The cramps in my stomach are no match for the pounding of my heart. “I’m fucking dead.”

  “Shoulda thought of that before you hopped in a car with someone you didn’t fuckin’ know. That’s some stupid shit right there, Austyn. Know you’re smarter than that.”

  I sigh heavily. There’s so much he doesn’t know and he would have had he returned home at any point in the last four years. “Fuck, Deke, you have no idea what you’ve done. You have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Fuckin’ enlighten me so I know what I’m gettin’ myself into.”

  He’s right. He’s driving me back home to a place he doesn’t want to be. I owe him something. Not all, but something, even if I don’t want to give it. My insides ache.

  My voice softens. “I lied.”

  He slams on the brakes, and I put my arms out to the dash to brace myself, my head moving forward with the truck. I blow the hair out of my face in a huff.

  “What?” he clips, anger pulsating out of him.

  Knowing I’m too late, I still say, “Don’t get pissed.”

  “Too fuckin’ late. Talk.”

  Pain hits me hard in the gut as an emptiness inside me makes its presence known. I’m hollow, vacant, a void. My heart is strangling just at the thought of telling him.

  “You can’t tell anyone, Deke. I’m confiding in you. I can’t let anyone know why I was in Grayson.” I picked that town for the sole purpose of going to Deke afterward, but nothing ever seems to go as planned.

  “Talk!” he barks, making me jump in shock.

  “Deke,” I snip back. “I mean it. This is serious shit.”

  “Talk. I’ll decide.” From the look on his face as he stares at me, he’s not going to let this go. I opened that door, and now I have to walk through it.

  “You’re not gonna let me go unless I tell you …” My thoughts trail off, and I pause for a few moments, getting all my thoughts in line. “I didn’t hitchhike. I’m not stupid. I took the Greyhound here, not wanting the tracker in my car to keep tabs on me.”

  “Well, at least you have some sense.”

  I let out a huff. “If you’d have been around the last four years, you never would’ve bought the hitchhike thing in the first place. I needed to do something, and it couldn’t be in Sumner. Emery told me a while back where you were living, so I planned that something here so I could crash with you for a couple days.”

  A vein throbs in hi
s throat, and his breathing is deep, telling me he’s pissed. “What something? And don’t fucking blow rainbows up my ass, woman.”

  I’m unable to hide the small smirk that comes to my lips. No matter the situation, I’ve learned to take the small joys, and Deke just gave me one.

  “We’ve missed you.”

  “Austyn …” he warns.

  No one knows this. Not a single soul on the planet, yet here I am, just going to tell Deke after he hasn’t been around for four years. When in the depths of Hell, one can hope for a lifeline. Deke might just be mine. Something tells me, though, that I can trust him. That I have to trust him.

  I clear my throat, fighting back all the emotions and confusion inside me. “Let’s just say, yesterday, when I came to town, I was pregnant. Today, I’m not.”

  “What?” His voice dips and shock comes to his eyes.

  My head whips toward him, tears and anger burning in my eyes. The pain of not having my child inside me squeezes my heart to the point of pain. Instead of letting it show, though, I let the anger win. Anger is a much better emotion. It doesn’t show weakness, at least not all the time. “I’m not talking about it anymore, Deke. You got more than I wanted to give.”

  “What about your face?”

  My fists clench at remembering that fucker and his smug look when I came out. “You should see him. Fucker outside the clinic said I was a murderer. Said I didn’t deserve to breathe. Said I was a whore. He came at me, and I didn’t think he was actually going to hit me, but he did. I fought back, of course, but he got a couple licks in.” My body vibrates, but I will my hands to relax. It works, somehow.

  “So, let me get this straight; you just had a procedure, and you’re out beating the ass of some asshole?”

  “Yeah, Deke. That’s why I passed out at your place. They gave me some painkillers, and I took them after I got out of the cab at your place.” I needed them, and they knocked me out, but that was the whole point of taking them and finding Deke. He was my safe place to crash and work through the aftermath.

  “Fuck, Austyn. Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday instead of fuckin’ lyin’?”