Hard Reality (Notus Motorcycle Club Book 5)

by Debra Kayn

  Together as a group, Wayne, Thad, Chuck, Glen, and Rich rolled quietly out of the driveway. On the road, he fell fourth in line with Chuck at his back in the truck.

  He needed no instructions because eliminating Cross fell on him. He'd finish the job before Cross realized he already had two feet in a six-foot grave.

  Wayne parked a block and a half away from the house where Cross stayed, and everyone pulled over. On foot, Rich led them down the alley, out of sight from the road with the cover of darkness.

  A hand grabbed his arm, and he stopped. Chuck said, "You'll need to use this instead of the pistol. There are too many houses around."

  They had no idea he'd left the pistol at Gracie's. That he refused to carry it. That he couldn't.

  He looked down and found Chuck handed him the butt handle of a knife. Taking the weapon, he flipped it upside down, blade to wrist. Sweat broke out over his body. There wasn't an inch of him that wasn't affected by the plans sitting in front of him.

  It would be easier to quietly leave town with Cross and take his punishment. To let the Notus members believe he'd run off again.

  "Chuck will drive down the alley in fifteen minutes." Thad stepped up to Rich's other side. "He's got a tarp in the truck. If you can wait until—"

  "I can wait." He continued walking.

  He went the rest of the way to the house in silence as if the years apart from Notus Motorcycle Club never happened. And, squelched down the hope that he could fix his life.

  He'd gone too far.

  Even if he completed the job ahead of him, it changed nothing.

  He couldn't stay.

  The danger to those he loved too high. A risk he'd never take.

  Outside the back door, a wave of dizziness hit him. He hunkered down beside the house, pressing his back to the siding. Unable to get enough air, he panted.

  "Hold up," whispered Wayne standing over Rich.

  His fucked-up vision made it impossible to see the others spread out to the sides of him. Rich pressed his fingers against his eyes. The tunnel vision his first sign that everything was slipping.

  "Give me a sec." He clamped his mouth, swallowing the vomit threatening to come up.

  A girl flashed in his head.

  He squeezed his eyes closed.

  Her screams pierced his ears.

  He dropped the knife and covered his head.

  Somewhere in the distance, Wayne said, "Stay with him. We'll take care of Cross."

  His heartbeat roared in his head. The blood flowed out onto the ground, covering his boots.

  There was no coming back.

  Chapter 21

  Wayne stood in front of Gracie in the kitchen of his house. She gawked at him. What he asked of her was impossible.

  "I'm not going to stay here if Rich is going back to my house," she whispered, keeping the conversation private from everyone in the living room. "You said it was safe now and nobody was out to hurt him."

  "Gracie..."

  She straightened her spine. "I want to go home with him."

  The men had returned an hour ago after dealing with the threat against Rich and locked themselves in the garage. Rich had avoided her completely, and she'd been shocked at the way he'd looked. His solemn expression and blank eyes reminded her of when he'd moved into her house. There was no life coming from his gaze as if he couldn't even see her.

  It was now after two o'clock in the morning. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep in her own bed, and hope in the morning Rich woke up acting like he had earlier today—or yesterday.

  The aroma of alcohol came from Wayne. Gracie swallowed her anger. He knew better than to drink around Rich. They all acted like they'd come off a missing person case with their secrets and their need to drink to ease their stress.

  "Asked too much of you." Wayne scratched his beard. "Stay here, and tomorrow, I'll take you back to your house. Besides, it's dark out."

  Her stomach fluttered. She never went out alone after dark.

  "I can follow Rich. I won't be alone." She slipped her hand into her purse and felt around for her keys. "Go to bed. I'll be all right."

  "Damnit, Gracie," muttered Wayne.

  She patted his chest. "I'll be fine."

  Wayne had no idea that she'd shared what happened to her when she was abducted and gave the details to Rich about how Roy Jenkins was linked to Thalia. It was her responsibility to make sure he processed everything okay and be there if he had any questions after he had time to think about everything. She'd given him answers he'd spent twenty-five years searching for. Nobody could expect him to handle knowing the truth. There were some pains that time couldn't soften.

  He had to bleed, cry, scream, and in a lot of ways, disconnect from other people. She knew that. She'd lived it.

  Walking around Wayne, she stopped when he called her name. "Yes?"

  "Text when you get home." Wayne's eyes softened even more. "Text if you need your sister or me. Text for any damn reason, sweetheart."

  She couldn't have picked a better man for her sister. Gracie nodded and left the kitchen. In the living room, she looked around in the crowd of people for Rich. Had he already left?

  Slipping her arm around Clara, she leaned close to her sister. "Where's Rich?"

  "He left a second ago." Clara frowned when Gracie sagged against her twin. "What's wrong?"

  "I want to go home."

  "I thought you were staying here tonight."

  She shook her head and stepped away from her sister. "I’m going to see if I can catch up to him. I'll text when I get home."

  "Sis?" Clara stepped toward her. "You never—"

  She waved her sister away. "I'll be fine."

  Wanting to get to Rich, she stepped outside into the darkness. Her heart raced, and the muscles in her whole body seized as she faced the night, the cooler temperature, the silence. Staying close to the house, she stepped to the railing of the porch and squinted into the driveway. A dark shadow moved in the middle of the motorcycles parked in front.

  She gathered all her bravery and ran down the driveway. Overestimating her confidence, she slammed into Rich, holding on to his arms as he cushioned her from falling head first into him.

  "I'm going home." She panted, letting go of him. "I thought you'd left."

  He looked through her. Nerves about to jump out of her skin, she backed away and clutched her keys tighter. Rich gazed over at her car, and because he never spoke up and told her she couldn't go to her own house, she walked toward the vehicle and locked herself in the driver's seat.

  Rich pulled onto the street riding his motorcycle. She made a U-turn and followed him home, barely aware of her surroundings or other traffic. On the rare occasion when she had to travel home after dark, one of the bikers accompanied her, all the way to the front door so she'd have company the whole way.

  Her worry over Rich outweighed her fear that any harm would come to her.

  She pulled her garage door opener out of her purse, having learned her lesson not to leave it in the car while parked out in the open, and pushed the button. A cold sweat chilled her, and she shivered. She looked out the side window of her car and found Rich parking near the strip of grass by the sidewalk.

  She could see him.

  She could yell for him, and he'd hear her.

  But, she wasn't close enough for him to reach out and physically save her if someone rushed her.

  The light from the inside of the garage filled the car as the door clicked to a stop. She pressed the accelerator and the car shot forward too fast. She braked hard in her panic of crashing into the wall.

  Half in, half out of her garage, she couldn't breathe. Her head pounded in pain, and she prayed she hadn't hit anything with the car.

  The driver's door opened. She jolted and her car rolled forward again.

  "Gracie," shouted Rich. "Stop."

  She slammed her foot on the pedal again at the same time Rich stuck his arm through the opened door and shoved her gearshift
into Park.

  His hand dropped to the latch on her seatbelt. She sucked in air as his upper body pressed against her, and then he freed her from the car, and she held on to him, and finally, she was close enough to him.

  She was safe.

  He cupped the back of her head, pressing her to his chest. The adrenaline spike in her body left her trembling. She knew she wasn't back at the intersection with Clara. A car hadn't crashed into them. Rich was not Roy Jenson trying to steal her away from everyone.

  But, she couldn't convince her body to relax as she relived that day wanting to fight harder to stop what comes next. She hated how a certain smell or movement set her back, especially around others.

  Rich cupped her head and said, "Okay?"

  She inhaled through a tight chest. "Embarrassed."

  He motioned with his chin. "Go in the house. I'll move the car, grab my duffle, and lock up."

  She grabbed on to her purse strap and stepped away from him. "Don't forget to put the rebar in th-the door track."

  Looking over her shoulder, he had already slipped into the driver's seat of her car. She walked into the house and straight up to her room. After she changed into more comfortable clothes and Rich went to bed, she'd go out in the garage and double check to make sure he'd put the bar in the track in case he hadn't heard her.

  Upstairs in her room, she set her purse on the bed, changed into a pair of shorts that she'd cut out of a pair of old sweatpants. On a whim, she'd sewn Candy Skulls on the ass of the shorts last summer when she was making the aprons for the waitresses at Vavoom's. She flung her bra off, slipped into a tank, wound her hair up on top of her head, and collapsed on the bed.

  Once she had her breathing under control, and the dizziness left her, she'd secure the house. Maybe tomorrow, she wouldn't lose it in front of Rich, and they could have a calm, rational discussion.

  Chapter 22

  A lone car cruised in front of the townhouse. Rich stood in the living room, in the dark, and stared out into the night. No one would be after him tonight.

  Cross was gone.

  Buried six feet under in an undisclosed location only Notus could pinpoint, Cross's murder went as planned, raising no one's attention. They'd left the abandoned house exactly like it was found.

  The only changes came from those in attendance. He closed his eyes. He'd let the others down tonight.

  Cross was his responsibility, and he'd failed. His weakness gripped him tight, and he couldn't pull himself out in time to recover and do the job.

  None of them said a word. They picked up where he'd failed, and saved his life. He gave them no excuses, no explanation, no bullshit because they never asked. They'd accepted him without question.

  They'd never understand that there was a fine line he couldn't cross. Not with Wayne, Thad, Glen, and Chuck in his life.

  He'd been there before.

  He couldn't trust himself.

  For all his good intentions, he walked into the situation planning to take responsibility for what he brought down on himself and Notus Motorcycle Club.

  In the end, he couldn't take the chance. As soon as his vision had narrowed outside Cross's house, it had taken everything in him to remain in control.

  The members of Notus Motorcycle Club rode with a purpose to find missing persons. He opened his eyes. They provided vigilante justice to those who harmed women and children without punishment. Sadness washed over him and regret hit him hard.

  As much as he wished he could change history, go back to the time before Thalia was murdered, he couldn't.

  He looked at his motorcycle parked at the edge of the driveway. His pulse accelerated. He could forget everything. Thalia. His past. Notus. Cross. Gracie.

  All he had to do was walk upstairs into the bedroom where he'd placed his duffle bag and drown himself in the whiskey he'd lifted from Vavoom's Bar.

  A door clicked open in the house. He half-turned and peered into the darkness. Gracie walked down the stairs without turning on the light, her hand trailed the wall feeling the way, and she turned the corner into the hallway. A few seconds later, the door to the garage opened.

  His exhale filled the room. She didn't trust him to lock up the house.

  Not wanting to scare her more, he stayed by the window. Now that he understood the reason for her habits, he'd make sure she felt free to double check her locks and have screws in every window. She fucking deserved to have a place where she felt safe.

  The door closed at the other end of the townhouse. Gracie stepped around the wall and stopped. Rich let out the breath he hadn't realized he held. He'd tried to avoid her since disposing of Cross. She was too innocent, too vulnerable, too good to be around the likes of him.

  Gracie walked toward the front door. There was no hesitation in her movements. She hadn't seen him.

  She unlocked the door and then relocked it. All three locks.

  He couldn't get it out of his mind that if Thalia had lived, she would be relocking the door numerous times and trying to convince herself that it was safe to go to sleep. She'd be wearing a purse from the moment she woke up in the morning until she closed her eyes at night. She'd be scared of every man. Of him.

  He said Gracie's name before he realized he spoke. Her soft gasp softened him. Who did she have in her life to protect her? She had a connection with every Notus member, but they all had their own woman.

  Just as he wouldn't have turned his back on Thalia had she survived, he couldn't turn his back on Gracie.

  "Come here," he whispered, the words tearing out of this throat.

  She walked across the room and stood in front of him. He had no idea what he wanted or what he planned, only that he wanted her near.

  Whether it was the way she gazed up at him, vulnerable and afraid, or brave and tempting, her upper body tilted toward him. It was that complicated mindset that came from a hard life that he understood.

  Afraid of scaring her away, he lowered his head, watching her for any sign that she wanted to retreat. It seemed like it took forever for him to span the two feet separating them.

  And, still, he stopped before his lips touched hers. "I always do the wrong thing," he whispered.

  The air in the room went heavy as she blinked full lashes and stayed silent. He could sense her rapid pulse as she fought an inner war.

  "I've heard about you...from Notus members...for the last four years." She moistened her lips, dropping her gaze from his eyes to his mouth. "I feel like I know you. I don't...not really..." She closed her mouth, and he heard her gulp. "But, I feel like I do, and that scares me. I should be more careful."

  "I won't hurt you."

  He said the words knowing he lied. Gracie expected him to be a member of Notus. She'd hurt when he left again.

  "I think, I know that," she whispered.

  "Do you?" If she understood how he'd lived, what he'd done, the things that he'd seen, she wouldn't have the confidence in him.

  "Yes," she whispered again.

  He had no right to ask anything of her. She deserved someone who would see what she needed before asking. Yet, she gave him her trust, which he didn't earn.

  He inhaled too fast and exhaled too heavily as the numbness faded and he began to ache, taking in everything about her. Her eyes begged him to go gentle, and he wasn't sure he had anything gentle to give her. He only had what was standing in front of him. Those beautiful eyes, breathing life into him, making him feel.

  He was only a few inches away from her mouth, watching her eyes focus on him. "You're not scared?"

  She barely shook her head, but it was enough. Her lips parted, and he placed his mouth on her. At first, she stiffened at the contact, and he remained still, lightening the pressure. A sigh escaped her.

  He took his time.

  It was his one chance to have something beautiful in his life, and he was afraid of making what they had together dirty and too selfish to be cautious.

  He opened his mouth, his tongue slid gently inside
, and he relaxed when she met him halfway. There were many things he craved in life. Whiskey. Women. Tobacco. Solitude. Revenge. But that first sweet taste of Gracie encompassed him completely.

  Gracie's hands sprawled on his stomach. A rough moan came from his throat, and he took the kiss deeper. He wanted her hands on his skin, not through his shirt.

  Her body stiffened, and she pulled away. He held still, letting her go.

  She closed her eyes. "I...can't..."

  In the dark, the pain etched on her face shattered him. He thought going slowly with her would make her see he wasn't going to hurt her.

  His cock pulsed. He should walk away, but he couldn't make himself leave her. "You can't what, honey?"

  Chapter 23

  "I can't breathe." Gracie pressed her hand to her chest.

  Rich raised his palms. "I'm here, and I won't touch you."

  "You..." She exhaled, "God."

  He tilted his head and frowned. "Rich."

  His intense seriousness thinking she called him God hit her already frazzled nerves, and she laughed. Her insides shook clear down her legs.

  She came unhinged and covered her mouth, mumbling through her fingers. "I’m sorry."

  He had her desperately wanting him, nothing stopped her from being with him. Nothing. Her head finally agreed with her body, and she knew without a doubt that she wanted to have sex with him.

  The old feelings she'd thought were lost forever returned and were the most wonderful thing she'd experienced in so long. She stepped forward and cupped his face, working her fingers over the lines around his eyes.

  "Can we start over?" she said quietly.

  Rich's gaze lowered to her mouth. "I can start again, but where do you see this finishing?"

  There was no hesitation. She knew what she wanted. "Upstairs in my bed."

  Taking her hand, he led her into her bedroom. She hurried across the room and turned on the light in the bathroom, leaving the door open, casting a glow over both of them.