Absolution (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 3)

by Avelyn Paige

  Grabbing the knife and fork, I cut into the steak and nearly groan at the medium rare perfection on my plate. The first bite melts in my mouth. The second and the third go down as quickly as I can shove it in. I eat like a man starved for months, and in a way, that’s exactly what I am. Starved for Ricca. As I reach for my beer, I feel a vibration coming from my pocket. It could only mean one of two things, Ricca left the city limits or it’s one of my club brothers. Setting the utensils down on my plate, I reach into my jeans and pull out my phone.

  It’s sad to admit that I sigh with relief, when I see Hero’s name on the screen.

  “Hero,” I state plainly as I answer the phone. Music pounds in the background, until his muffled voice finally breaks through the commotion.

  “Celebrating, VP?” I inquire. “Sounds like there’s quite the party happening at the club house.”

  “You could say that,” Hero declares with a hit of exhaustion to his voice. “It’s been a long night.”

  “Do you need me back?”

  A muffled sound comes through the receiver along with whispered voices that I can’t understand. My instincts heighten knowing that something is wrong.

  “Hero,” I call out. “You still there?”

  “We’ve got another club here at the moment, and we’re about to get into some heavy shit. Raze is tied up in meetings right now, but he wanted me to call to let you know.”

  “This isn’t your version of the if you don’t hear from me ever again talk bullshit, is it?” I ask, hoping that I am wrong in the gut feeling I have. I’m helpless here so far away from my club, and that is not a feeling that I particularly like having. The club has been my life since Jagger brought me into the fold, thus saving my life. When they call, I answer no questions asked. I have never not been there for a fight, and it’s gnawing at me knowing that this could be the first time experiencing the shit hitting the fan from the outside.

  “It could be. Our old buddy Rex apparently started trafficking local pussy, instead of importing it. One of the girls he has belongs to a club from Texas. They showed up guns blazing.”

  “Sounds pretty heavy, man. Are you sure you don’t need me to come back? I could be there in less than six or seven hours, if I caught a flight right now.”

  “Raze was very specific in his instructions for you to stay put. Besides, we have their numbers to help us end this problem for the last time,” he replies, but the pull inside me to be there for my club continues to nag at me. There are a few things that I have remained loyal to in my life, my club and Ricca. The hard part of having two priorities is that one may have to be sacrificed for the good of the other, but I don’t think I am equipped to make a call like that just yet. Raze, being the good club president that he is, isn’t asking me to do that, but that time may come and when it does, the decision will have to be made.

  “Are the women and the kids taken care of?” I ask. Hero pauses before answering.

  “That’s not the kind of shit I expected to hear coming out of your mouth, Ratch. I’m not sure if I like this softer side of you.”

  “I’m not soft, asshole. We’ve got more people than ourselves to think about now, including your woman and kids. We protect our own, and that extends to them,” I growl back at his surprise.

  “I appreciate it, brother. It’s nice knowing that should shit go south that you’ll still be around to watch after them. Not all plans work out the way they should.”

  “No shit,” I mutter. “So, I’m gonna ask again. Do you need me?”

  “No, we’re covered. How are things going on your end? Any progress?”

  A laugh rumbles from my chest unexpectedly. How in the fuck did two grown ass men get to the point in their lives that we talk about the women in them? Jesus, maybe being here with her has turned me into a fucking pussy.

  “She seems to be coming around. Progress might be slower than anticipated, but with a little luck, that might be changing today.”

  “I wish you luck, brother. Women are complicated creatures,” he teases. “Trust me, I have three of them under my roof right now.”

  “Twins keeping you busy?”

  “You have no idea. Fucking hell on wheels times two. Nothing is safe in my house.”

  We both share a laugh, before I notice the time. Ricca should be here soon enough. Hero talks about his daughters and Dani, but I tune him out, while I wave for the waitress to bring me a to-go box for my meal. Instead of bringing it, she takes my plate with her. I try to reach out and stop her, but she slips past me and stomps off with my half-eaten dinner. Let’s hope she comes back with it because this time I wasn’t going to take a chance of leaving with an empty stomach, on the off chance Ricca manages to get me black listed from this place. Convenience store food fucking sucks, and the chance of her actually being a decent cook is slim to none. I’ve seen her so called cooking skills, and we’re just lucky she hasn’t burned down the clubhouse kitchen yet.

  “Hey man, I’ve got to run. Let me know how things go, and if the status quo changes, I’ll be there to clean up the mess you make. Just don’t let Voodoo near a gun. He might blow a foot off, instead of taking care of business.”

  He chuckles, before disconnecting the call. The pretty red headed waitress comes back with a box in her hand. I leave her a hefty tip for a good job, and slide from the booth. Willie waves at me from behind the bar as I exit the building.

  At least, Willie likes me. For now, anyway. After watching him man handle that Johnny kid last night, I’m sure he could hold his own against me. Something that I hope never has to come to fruition.

  I hold my breath as I scan the parking lot and sure enough, Ricca’s truck sits waiting in the far corner next to my bike. Score one for me on the promise scale today. A sigh of relief hits me as I notice that she didn’t run my bike over. Yet another sign pointing to yes on the Ricca version of the Magic Eight Ball.

  I stalk over to the truck, takeout box in my hand, and knock on the passenger side glass. She startles at the sound, and stares a hole through me, before motioning me to hop in.

  “This isn’t a stakeout, Ratchet. You didn’t need to bring a snack,” she sasses as I open the truck door and set down the box on the bench seat.

  “Funny thing about eating in this town,” I retort back to her, sliding into the truck. “I don’t seem to get to finish my meal with having to rescue your ass.”

  I smile back at her, but her face turns angry. I would never admit it to her, but seeing her eyes narrow and her chest heave like that turns me on. Fucked up I know, but I like what I like. It leaves me to wonder what hate sex would be like with her. I make a mental note to test the theory. She’s already a wild cat, but a pissy kitty might just make me bend a knee and submit to her.

  “I do not need rescued, asshole. It’s your fault that I got fired today, or do you not remember that fact?” she sneers.

  “Yes, that one is on me, but your boss needed to be taught a lesson. Good thing the first one is a freebie. The second lesson won’t be so nice.”

  Ricca glares at me and just shakes her head at my joke. I watch her throw the gearshift into drive and head towards the street. She maneuvers into the light traffic, but remains silent. I drum my fingers on the dashboard, hoping to annoy her enough to break the silence. It doesn’t. Shifting in my seat, I turn and notice that her knuckles are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that they are completely white. What in the hell does she have to show me that is making her this scared? Have I given her any reason to think that whatever the fuck it is would bother me that much?

  “So what’s this secret of yours?” I blurt out.

  Did you not learn from the first time you tried to force something out of her? She’s like a gold vault at Fort Knox. Impenetrable until unlocked. I just need to find the right key to get her to lower the gates and let me back in.

  “It’s not something that I can explain yet. You need to see it for yourself.”

&
nbsp; “You aren’t driving me out to the country to kill me, right?” I tease her, trying to make her break the hardened look on her face. She side-eyes me, but she smirks just like I wanted her to. Another point in my win column already. This day might just shape up to be a decent one.

  I settle back into the bench seat of the truck, and just let her drive. The narrow streets filled with small homes and trailers zoom by, until she finally slows and makes a left turn. She quickly turns again, and my eyes fall in disbelief when she pulls up next to a school building. The thought of one of my fears punches me in the gut. It can’t be true, could it? Was there a kid I didn’t know about?

  She cuts the engine, and unbuckles her seat belt, before turning to face me.

  “I can see your wheels turning already, but stop jumping to conclusions before I can explain.”

  “Explain what exactly?” I question.

  “Just wait. Once I show you, I’ll explain.”

  She settles into her seat with her eyes trained on the front door of the school. An awkward silence settles between us. I try to think of a way to break it, but every time I try to open my mouth, she shushes me. If it wasn’t so frustrating, it would be kind of cute. Ricca looks to the clock on the dashboard, and her eyes flash with delight. The sound of a bell ringing echoes off the brick walls of the surrounding playground, as she watches intently. I lean forward, studying her face. As the kids start coming out of the school, her eyes dart from kid to kid, until they stop completely. I follow her gaze, and see what has her so locked on in interest. A young boy stands at the corner of the building. She turns to me, as I realize this kid looks eerily similar to her.

  “It’s not what you think,” she blurts out.

  “So that’s not your kid that I am looking at right now?” I hiss. “Because that kid looks just fucking like you, Ricca.”

  Her eyes dart between mine and watching the kid again, in an unwavering panic.

  “He’s not my kid, Ratchet,” she declares with a look of sorrow on her face. “He’s my brother.”

  “You honestly think I am going to believe that kid is your brother. A kid that has to be nearly twenty years your junior. Do you think you can play me for a fool?”

  It takes seconds for me to realize that the only fool in this situation is me. The pained look on her face tells me everything that I need to know. I’ve hurt her deeper than I could have ever imagined possible. The fucking broken word filter between my brain and mouth may have just shut me out of the picture for good, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  “Yes asshole, he is my brother. That’s what happens when your mother is a fucking whore. You know, like the women who flock to your club and beg for attention on their knees with open mouths,” I recoil at him with tears welling up in my eyes.

  “Ricca, I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers out, but I have nothing left to give him. I gave him what he wanted, and he’s spit the trust I put into him back into my face.

  He tries to move closer to me, but I barricade myself with my outstretched arms.

  I’m emotionally drained, and having his touch enveloping me won’t solve anything, it will only confuse my heart even more. Why was I so stupid to believe that he would understand? That he would just accept it at face value. The part of me that wanted him to leave is reveling in the face that I did this to myself. This is my own misery. I gave him what he wanted, and he’s spit the trust I put into him back into my face.

  “No, don’t you dare try to play the pity card with me, Ratchet. You wanted the truth, and right there he is.”

  Ratchet flops back into the seat, and watches along with me as my brother disappears into the town car with my sperm donor. I could have mentioned that to him, but he didn’t care enough to ask. He’s made up his mind, which also helped make up my own. We aren’t strong enough to be together, and probably never were. The realization hurts as the dreams of my future shatter into pieces.

  Without a word, I turn on the truck, and barrel out of the school parking lot. When we reach Willie’s, I skid into the open spot near his bike and kick him out of the truck. He tries to protest, but his words fall on deaf ears. Before he can even latch the door closed, I speed off. The door slams shut as I take the corner hard.

  I can’t deal with this anymore. The need to be away from him and everything else is almost overwhelming.

  I try to drive around town to ease my anger, but nothing helps. The former addict who lives inside of me screams to find a hit to dull the pain. To give into temptation because in the end, it’s easier to forget the pain than to live with it.

  No, I won’t give in. That isn’t my life anymore. It will never have a hold on me ever again.

  I finally give up, and head back to mom’s trailer. I bust into the door, and head straight to the nearly bare refrigerator. The only thing my mom apparently kept in here was beer, and for once, I am thankful for her vices. As much as I want to drink myself into oblivion, one beer should be enough to take the edge off and help me clear my mind of Ratchet and the drugs.

  I pop the top of the beer on the cheap counter top, and take a few swigs, before I manage to spill the fucking shit all over myself. Setting the bottle down, I rip off my beer-covered shirt and toss it to the ground. The clock over the stove catches my eye, and I swear out loud. My shift at Willie’s starts in a few hours, and I reek of beer. I’ve lost one job today, and there’s no way I am going into my last one smelling like a saloon. Willie would fire me in an instant, if he thought I was drunk on the job.

  Deciding it’s easier to shower than it is to take the chance, I make my way back to the bathroom. The hot spray from my shower helps release the last wisps of anger that were not taken care of by the beer, but relaxation is as short lived as the hot water supply in this place. Wrapping the towel around me, I pad into the bedroom and slip on a pair of panties, when I hear the door of my trailer swing open.

  Fuck, I’m being robbed, and I’m fucking naked. Just great. That’ll make the perfect headline for the local paper. “Daughter of town whore found naked and burglarized.” That’s exactly how I want to go out in this world.

  I search for my switch knife, but it dawns on me that it’s out in the kitchen in my purse. The only way I am going to get to them is to go out there and face whoever is in my house. I reach down for the towel, wrapping it around me like paper armor. It won’t protect me, but at least my dignity can stay intact for the coroner to identify my body, if this goes south.

  I quietly pull open the door, and peer out. My feet make tiny steps down the hall, and I pray that the floor doesn’t creak under my weight. The corner to the kitchen comes into view, but I stop dead in my tracks when I see who the intruder is.

  Fucking Ratchet is in my god damn house.

  “Get the fuck out of my house,” I scream at him. I eye a beer bottle on the counter and consider throwing it him to emphasize my point.

  “Don’t you even think about it, Siren,” he booms. “You throw that bottle, and I will paint your ass red.”

  “Get out. I don’t want you here. You got what you came for, and now you can leave,” I yell back as my hand grasps the bottle. My fingers curl around the smooth neck.

  Ratchet’s hands come out in front of him in a submissive gesture, like he’s the china shop, and I am the bull wreaking havoc. In a way, he’s right.

  “We both know that’s a lie. You would have never shown me that boy if you wanted me gone. You want me here, even if you think you don’t. I make you feel safe, and that’s exactly what you need right now.”

  “I don’t need you for shit, asshole.”

  His face is visibly frustrated at my lack of submission to him. Do I want him here? Yes and no. Being near him is like toeing the line between heaven and hell. Lean a little bit too far on either side, and it’s too late to save yourself.

  “Jesus, Ricca. I am trying to apologize here, and you’re not even giving me a fucking chance.”

&
nbsp; “Nice try,” I chide him. “You were pretty fucking clear that you wanted nothing to do with this. You accused me of lying to you, and now you want to apologize?”

  Ratchet inches closer to me with his hands still in front of him.

  “I was an asshole, but you didn’t exactly give me time to process the situation. This isn’t what I was expecting you to be hiding from me.”

  “Well, it’s not what I expected either, but it’s the hand I’ve been dealt. Not that you would understand.”

  Ratchet winces, and for a second, I see a pain in his eyes that I have never seen before.

  “I would understand more than most. I came here knowing you’d be pissed, but I’ve seen that look on your face before. The last time I saw it, I spent nearly a week at the hospital with you as you detoxed. I couldn’t let you walk away without trying to save you from yourself. That isn’t the road you want to travel back down now that you have someone else depending on you.”

  “Thanks for your concern, but I will never subject myself to that shit again. As much as I wanted to find the nearest dealer, I couldn’t bring myself to do it,” I admit with a trace of weakness in my voice. The fact he recognizes my weaknesses is both shocking and soothing at the same time. It’s as if he knows me better than I know myself anymore.

  “You could have told me Siren, from the very beginning, but you chose to run and hide this from me. Do you know how it makes me feel knowing that you’ve been dealing with this alone when I could have been here helping you? I feel like fucking shit.”

  “Like you would have came here with me,” I scoff. “This isn’t your problem. It’s mine.”

  The truth is that even as angry as I am with him, he’s right. His presence, although aggravating, is calming to me. He makes me crazy, but it’s moments like these where he opens up and shows me only what I get to see, his heart.