Hard Reality (Notus Motorcycle Club Book 5)

by Debra Kayn

  They'd all suffered long enough.

  While the bikers remained hopeful, she remained pessimistic.

  Clara walked toward the kitchen. Gracie stepped back from the swinging door and the circular window she used for spying.

  Maureen, the head waitress, came from the other direction and stopped by the sisters. "Thanks for covering for me."

  "Not a problem. Cheryl called and will be in at two." Clara handed over the tablet and removed the apron around her waist, handing everything to Maureen. "Her mom's going to watch her daughter for her, so she doesn't lose a whole shift."

  "Poor baby. Daycare is a breeding ground for germs. I'm glad you guys let her take off and pick up Rhonda." Maureen smoothed the apron down the front of her. "Are you guys sticking around?"

  "No, I think we're going to take off in a few minutes," said Clara. "Call my cell if anything comes up and you need one of us at the bar."

  As owners of Vavoom's, Gracie and her sister had found a wonderful team consisting of Peyton, the cook, Maureen and Cheryl, the waitresses, to manage the bar when they were not on site. She enjoyed the freedom to come and go whenever the mood struck, knowing business was taken care of.

  Alone with her sister, Gracie put her hand on Clara's arm. "How were the men?"

  "Quiet." Clara sighed. "I talked to Wayne on the phone and asked him if there was a way for you to get more of your clothes out of your house before we head back to our place. He said the others were coming over and to follow them. Apparently, Thad's going to stay with Rich tonight."

  For reasons unknown to her, the night Notus Motorcycle Club bailed Rich out of jail, Wayne had insisted Gracie stay at his house with her sister. The bikers had turned her townhouse into a hotel for Rich.

  "Has anyone said why Rich needs constant supervision?" Gracie lowered her voice. "Are they afraid he'll run off again?"

  "I don't know," whispered Clara. "I don't even know why he was in jail."

  Gracie flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I know who would know."

  "Erikka," said the sisters together, grinning.

  Chuck, one of the Notus members, lived with Erikka, who owned St. John's Bail Bonds. She'd know why Rich was arrested.

  Gracie moved the purse strap hanging between her breasts and pushed her bag to her hip. "I'll call her when we get back to your house when I have time to talk with her privately without fourteen people on the other side of the door trying to enjoy their meal."

  "You'll have hours to talk to Erikka." Clara grinned. "Wayne will be home tonight. I plan on keeping him busy and stress-free, so you're on your own."

  "Thanks for the heads up." Gracie groaned and ran her tongue over her teeth. "I just want my toothbrush."

  "I gave you one."

  She rubbed her lips together and peeked out the kitchen window. "It's not the same. I want my electric one. I also want to grab some more clothes and find out how long Wayne plans on using my townhouse as a halfway house."

  "Halfway house?" Clara wrinkled her nose. "He was in jail, not prison."

  Gracie jolted into action when the men at the table got to their feet. She grabbed Clara's hand. "The guys are leaving. Let's go."

  After they informed Thad, Chuck, and Glen they were going to follow them to Gracie's house, the sisters went out the back and hurried into Clara's car parked in the alley. Gracie slid into the passenger seat, and as soon as Clara closed her door, she pushed the button for the locks to engage and looked behind them. She hated the alley, even in the daytime.

  Halfway to her townhouse, Gracie said, "I hope Wayne had the sense to put Rich in the guest room and not in my bed."

  "Does it matter?" Clara flipped on the blinker and turned left. "If it wasn't Rich, then Wayne slept in your bed."

  "That doesn't bother me." Gracie sighed. "I know Wayne."

  "I'm sure we'll both get to know Rich after everything gets squared away and the guys get their answers on why he left and stayed away for over half their lifetime."

  Gracie slumped in the seat and pulled the seatbelt down off her neck. "I don't think I want to know his reasons. I get how they love him. They've got history with the guy. Personally, I think he's a real asshole for leaving everyone when they needed him the most. I mean, he left the people who loved him with not a word or letter to let them know he was okay. Just looking at the last four years we've known the Notus members, I can't count how many John Does they had to verify wasn't Rich at the morgue or how many weekend trips they took to follow a lead on him that came out a dead end. How is that fair to the ones who did nothing but love the guy?"

  "For someone who isn't personally invested in Rich, you've sure made a decision about him." Clara pulled into Gracie's driveway and stopped the car.

  Gracie took off her seatbelt. "The dude is in my house, probably sleeping in my bed. The fact that the club doesn't want him around you, Ingrid, Erikka, and Lena—okay, Lena, I can understand because baby Avi is only seven months old and Rich could be rough around the edges, but still, why do the guys have to act like his bodyguard? He's a grown-ass, middle-aged man who obviously survived on his own. They could've put him up in a hotel or even the motel a block from the bar...it's cheap but clean."

  "I don't know, sis. I'm just trying to step back and try to stay out of their business. Rich is everything to them. If he ends up hurting them or they don't like his answers, I'm not sure how Wayne and the others will react. I'm afraid they all have their hopes set on getting back their friend, their brother, that they'd lost." Clara opened the driver's door and stopped before stepping out to hand her keys to Gracie. "Here you can take my car when we leave, and I'll ride with Wayne."

  Gracie slipped the keys into her purse and got out of the car. Looking at her sister as they walked up to the front door of her house, she said, "Thanks for letting me stay with you."

  "Notus didn't give you a choice." Clara nudged her with her elbow. "They railroaded you."

  "Still...it's nice to have someone in the house, any house, with me at night," said Gracie softly, reaching out for the doorknob. "I slept better, even without brushing my teeth with my electric toothbrush."

  Behind them, the other Notus members pulled into the driveway behind Clara's car and parked their motorcycles. Gracie opened the door to her house and came face to face with Wayne. "Hey."

  "Grab your stuff." Wayne motioned over her and Clara's head at the others to come inside. "Be quick about it."

  "O—kay." She glanced at Clara and raised her brows at Wayne in super serious mode, and received a shrug in return.

  Not wasting any time, she jogged up the stairs to her bedroom, thankful the room was empty. Grabbing a bag out of her closet, she took clothes for two more days and her iPad. Her and Clara had an appointment Tuesday to have their hair trimmed, and she took twenty dollars out of her drawer to use as a tip for Shaylene, her hairdresser, in case she didn't have a chance to get back to the house between now and then.

  Looking at the items in the bag, she racked her brain to think of anything else she would need. Being at someone else's house and when Clara was busy with Wayne, the time crawled by without the comfort of her own home. Even vegging out in front of the television to waste the night hours wasn't the same when she was away.

  She walked over to her nightstand and opened the drawer, retrieving her moisturizer. Her hand hesitated as she caught sight of the pistol. Thanks to Chuck, she always carried a pistol in her purse, which remained at her side at all times, and one in her bedroom. She turned her gaze to the bed and exhaled. Her bed was made and hadn't been slept in. She was probably overthinking her need to hide a weapon from a houseguest. Rich was a Notus member. It wasn't like he was going to rip her off or shoot himself.

  Remembering she needed her fancy toothbrush she'd spent too much money on, she walked into the bathroom and grabbed the brush and the cord.

  Zipping her bag, she walked back through her bedroom and stepped out into the hall. She came to a sudden stop. A strange man stood in fro
nt of her. She froze. Her heart raced even though she knew the man had to be Rich. The shock at his appearance took her breath away.

  "Who are you?" The deep, gravelly tone was more accusing than curious.

  He glared, shooting dull gray eyes her way, further making him scarier to her. She tried to answer but her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth.

  His wild dirty blond hair tangled around his head. She managed to swallow and gasped with her first breath. His beard looked more like he'd been rescued after being shipwrecked for twenty-five years on an island without a razor rather than landing in St. John's jail.

  Jail.

  She looked past him, wanting to scream for Wayne.

  "Which Notus member do you belong to?" asked Rich, blocking her from getting past him.

  She clung to her bag and decided to do the smart thing when cornered by a man that scared her. Lie.

  "W-Wayne." She inhaled and tried again, knowing he could barely hear her. "I belong to Wayne," she said.

  If she could make him believe she belonged to his MC brother, he would leave her alone. Wayne would kill anyone who touched Clara. It wasn't the first time she was thankful for having an identical twin and being able to fool others.

  Rich rubbed the back of his head. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's any whiskey or something stronger than water in the house, would you?"

  Did she? She searched the hallway behind Rich. Where was Clara or Wayne or any of the Notus members?

  "Do you?" Rich exhaled loudly, obviously losing patience with her.

  She used to enjoy wine, but she never drank by herself any longer. Unless the women of Notus came over and spent time with her, she highly doubted if she'd ever enjoy the case in the garage again.

  "What's wrong with you?" he asked.

  She gasped, stepping back. There was a desperation in his gaze that she recognized and feared.

  The pistol in her drawer was close enough to run to, or she could slip her hand into her purse. She could get either weapon before he grabbed her.

  "Where's the alcohol?"

  She cleared her throat. "I have — Gracie has wine in the garage. In a box. Um, on the shelf."

  Rich's hair fell forward as he dipped his chin. "'preciate it."

  The second he stepped away and walked into her guest bedroom, she rushed to the stairs and ran down the steps. Even the room full of people she considered family standing in her living room couldn't calm her panic. She reached blindly out and grabbed on to the back of a leather vest.

  Her vision blurred as her eyes watered and her head pounded. Why now? She had to hold on.

  "Sweetheart, look at me."

  She nodded.

  "Open your eyes."

  She nodded again, wanting to stop the panic. In the back of her mind, she understood the danger was over. But fear had already taken hold of her. She hated it, but couldn't control her stupid brain.

  "Gracie, look at me."

  She opened her stinging eyes and found Chuck standing in front of her outside, holding her arms. Focusing on his face, she gasped, wanting the strangling hold on her chest to go away.

  "There you are," whispered Chuck. "You're okay."

  She couldn't remember how she got from the living room of her house to outside. She nodded, forcing herself to breathe. Already, she understood that she'd be all right but lacked the strength to convince her body not to shut down.

  Chuck gathered her to his chest and rubbed her back. "What happened to set that one off?"

  She rested her head on the front of him. Exhaustion overcame her. "I-I don't know."

  "Sis, are you okay?" Clara's hand joined Chuck's on her back. "Let's get you inside, and you can sit down."

  She lifted her head. "No. I'm fine. It was just a stupid reaction...I don't know."

  For some reason, she refused to admit that Rich scared her. There was nothing threatening about him talking to her, and he never came close to touching her. Between his scary looks and him standing in front of her bedroom door, hulking out and blocking her exit, she'd been stupid.

  Clara stroked Gracie's overheated cheek. "You haven't had a panic attack in months, right?"

  As far as her sister or anyone knew, she was pulling her life together after she'd been abducted, terrorized, and hurt four years ago. But, when she was alone, she failed to remain strong. The most unexplainable things scared her. A scent in the air. A sound. A voice on the television.

  She knew the man who'd abducted her was dead. But, no matter how much she tried, she couldn't forget what he'd said and done to her. Those were things that nobody would ever know about, especially her sister.

  Chapter 3

  Wayne stood in the living room with Thad and Glen, while Chuck went outside with the two women, leaving the front door open. Rich stood at the edge of the room, apart and disconnected from the others. Twins—the two women in the picture. He hadn't seen double.

  A low conversation hummed in the room that didn't involve him. He no longer knew the men he'd once believed would be a part of his life until he died. Though he recognized each one. Glen still hid the muscle spasm in his upper lip. Wayne still took the leader position as he'd done at six years old as he rounded up the each one of them from the neighborhood and declared everyone friends from that day forward. Thad still listened quietly to everyone around him. Behind that silence, he knew damn well Thad had his own opinion, and he bided his time.

  All of them were older and had a surprising amount of gray in their hair and beards—except Chuck, who shaved his head bald. He remembered blond curls on Chuck and had been with him when he'd rebelled and shaved his head as a teenager.

  His thoughts went to the women outside. The one who he'd talked to upstairs belonged to Wayne, and yet it was Chuck embracing her. He'd made a point to watch her as she walked downstairs and grab for Chuck.

  If he had a woman, he'd trust no man with her. Especially, an MC brother.

  Wayne had definitely changed. Back in the day, they'd passed girlfriends back and forth between all five of them, but Wayne always gave them shit if one of them went out with one of his old girlfriends.

  He studied the Notus MC members and leaned against the wall. Would he have time to slip out to the garage and find the box of wine bottles while they bullshitted?

  His hope dashed as Wayne approached him. "Thad's going to stay with you tonight."

  There was no point in Notus overseeing his care. He didn't need their fucking help. All he wanted was his Harley and a few dollars to fill his gas tank so he could get the hell out of St. John's.

  If he waited them out, eventually they'd all go to work, leaving him alone. Since they were young, all of them worked odd jobs, scraping money here and there. It's how they each bought a motorcycle while still a teenager.

  "Do you need anything?" asked Wayne.

  He huffed his answer. There was nothing Notus MC could do that would change the situation.

  Wayne lowered his voice. "The Bowers want to see you."

  "Keep them away. I don't want to see them." Rich walked to the kitchen.

  His dry mouth tempted him to drink from the sink, but he knew water would only have him heaving over the toilet. What he needed was a good stiff drink. Then, he'd be able to concentrate on how to get the hell out of here.

  The front door opened and shut. His heartbeat accelerated. As soon as Thad and Glen left the house, he'd get a drink. One drink. That's all he needed to help him figure out what had happened between the Komoon Clubhouse in Klamath and arriving in St. John's without any memory of traveling.

  The roar of motorcycles filled the house. He held on to the edge of the kitchen island. The need to ride almost overpowered his desire for a drink. Almost. The two pleasures in his life went hand in hand like a good dip of tobacco after dinner.

  When silence came, despondency hit him hard. No drink. No motorcycle.

  "Feeling better?" asked Thad behind him.

  Rich gritted his teeth, stifling the wave of si
ckness that threatened to come out of his stomach. The first time he'd seen Thad after twenty-five years of being away, he'd had to look hard to see any resemblance to Thalia. When they'd been younger, the brother and sister likeness was strong enough it physically hurt to look at Thad after Thalia's murder.

  Now he found himself wanting to see Thalia in Thad, to appease the desire to know what kind of woman she could've turned out to be if she had lived. He knew, deep in his heart, Thalia would've been the most beautiful woman in the world.

  He pushed away from the counter. "I'm going to bed."

  Walking past Thad without looking at him, he climbed the steps and stopped outside the room he'd sobered up in. He walked a few more feet and stood in front of the door to the bedroom of the woman who owned the house—what had Wayne's woman called her sister? Tracey? Gracie?

  He never imagined Wayne hooking up with a shy woman. He'd barely asked her where her sister kept her wine and she'd almost pissed herself. Wayne's woman looked exactly like her twin, he couldn't tell them apart and wondered if they had the same personality.

  Maybe it was better if the other one was quiet. She'd leave him alone until Notus voted to let him leave.

  "What are you doing?" asked Thad from behind Rich.

  His irritation only grew at having a shadow following him. "You got a problem with me looking at the place you're forcing me to stay?"

  "There's no reason for you to be in Gracie's bedroom." Thad reached around Rich and pulled the door shut. "Do you want dinner? I brought food from Vavoom's."

  "The bar?" He stepped back and faced Thad, studying the man he'd thought at one time would end up being his brother-in-law, besides his MC brother and friend.

  Thad dipped his chin. "Same one we'd go to back in the day. Clara and Gracie own the place now."

  Clara, the one who belonged to Wayne.

  Gracie, the sister who owned the house.

  He filed the information away for later.