He flashes the blade in front of Alejandro’s face then tears his shirt open. Buttons scatter across the floor. Then nothing but blissful screams echo around the warehouse as Curtis carves his chest.
The large doors rise open and a van backs in. People scurry from the back. Men surround Brick paying attention to his wounds. It’s Rocker’s strong point in his club. Several of his brothers are former medics from the Army. They have Brick loaded up in the van and off. The last minute, his pulse was one hundred fifty-five or was it... The number is useless to me. The only comfort is there was a pulse.
I rise to my feet, cross my arms over my chest, and let Curtis finish what he started. Alejandro is marked with bleeding flesh. His final demise a long cut across his throat. Curtis leans back and roars as he bleeds out.
It doesn’t last long before he’s on Ricky. Curtis stalls. And I know exactly why. This was promised to Brick. All of us would’ve surrounded Brick as he took Ricky down. All the hours and sacrifice paid in full.
“Do him proud.” I nod to Curtis. “Make our boy Brick smile.”
Curtis doesn’t hesitate, taking it to Ricky just like the details explained on Zoe’s death report. He doesn’t miss a beat going to show how much he’s examined and studied that piece of paper. All too soon, Ricky’s body lies in his own pool of blood with the back of his head bashed out.
The man I call my best friend rises to his feet covered in blood with no resemblance left of his old self. A few brothers of the Denver chapter are there to take care of him. They usher him off to another waiting van.
I’m left alone in the warehouse. And before I know it, I’m moving, covering the dirt road leading up to the house. Not a person to be seen until I enter the closet where the member stands guard. He nods his head, letting me pass knowing damn well who I am.
The door is already cracked. I’m fucking baffled at how vicious Alejandro was yet had no security system in place. Burn in hell, cunt.
I take the steps two at a time. And by fucking God, I walk into a daycare just like the ones you see in those parenting magazines. A boy full of life and not ruined by the ways of the world sits in the corner putting together a puzzle. An elderly woman looking over him. My fucking heart stops just like it did the other night at the club when I saw my woman for a brief second and she whispered in my ear, “You did it. I’m pregnant.”
We’d been trying for months. My girl so broken over not being able to get pregnant. I read those fucking magazines and even experimented with different positions. Now, I stand here after the bloodshed I witnessed and see this.
Fuck me. I scrub my face silently watching from the steps. This is the end goal we all laid everything out for. Eden’s tirade during church. It all falls together, just like the puzzle his clumsy fingers fight to piece together. Never thought my world would come full circle until now. A woman, my complete opposite, brought it all to me. And I’ll be for damn sure taking it home to Brick and his lady. Apology and all.
I clear my throat and walk the rest of the way down the stairs. My appearance is always intimidating, but I don’t give a shit.
“Wilder,” his name slips from my lips.
The little boy’s head flips up. His caretaker steps back, pushing a panic button. I raise my hands over my head.
“I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m taking the boy home to his aunt.”
“Eden!” His bright blue eyes fire to life. The table topples over as he hops up. “Is my mommy home from vacation?”
The question brings me to my knees and I respond with the only thing I know that comes to my mind.
“I’m taking you to your Aunt Eden. She’s missed you.”
75
Eden
Rose talked me right to sleep, never leaving my side. My eyes grew heavy, but I fought to stay awake with everything inside of me. But in the end, sleep was the victor with Rose’s voice my lullaby. Sleep came easy with Rose and her comforting words next to me.
Rolling over a few times and slapping her back, I knew she was out right next to me. True to her word, she’s by my side until this is all over. She never promised me a positive outcome, only the fact she’d be here for me. Each time I wake myself from sleep, I fall right back under.
It’s always Saxon’s gentle smile and aggressive touch that entertain my thought. Then a former dream in which we are all united and living. It’s the promise Saxon offered the day I met him. It wasn’t verbally expressed but lingered between us.
This time, I sit straight up in bed. The entire clubhouse rattles like an earthquake shakes Cali. My heart stops then fights to beat again. The ruckus outside the door too much to ignore.
“Rose,” I whisper into the darkness of the room.
No response. Her heavy breathing is the only sign she’s still here. I shake out the confusion knowing it’s a dream. But the damn noise is too much to ignore. I know the club is on lockdown and all the families and members are here. At least the ones not out on the mission. The sounds grow more intense with screaming and shouting. I’m waiting for gunshots.
What in the hell? This can’t be real. When did I train myself to listen for gunshots?
“Need a room. Every medical supply you have. Antibiotic IV fluids, gauze, a suture kit…”
“Zeke?” Is that him? It is. Oh, thank God, he made it. I had to notify him about this. I would have never forgiven myself if I didn’t. Saxon needs his brother more than anything now. I knew the moment I dialed his number when were three hours out from reaching this clubhouse I was overstepping a boundary, but unlike last time, I’m steadfast in my conviction. And if there happens to be a punishment, it will be mine to bear.
The ruckus blurs together. My mind narrows in knowing it’s not a dream. Something is going down outside that door. Even though Rose schooled me on the club ways, I’m still not okay busting out of this room. It’s not about courage or strength in this moment, rather facing reality.
“Rose.” I push on her back. She rolls around the bed wiping away the sleep from her eyes.
“Rose!” This time it comes out as a yell.
She bolts straight up from the bed. Leaps to her feet, pulling out a gun from the nightstand.
“Rose.” I fight to calm my voice. “There’s noise. Something is going on.”
She slowly wakes, taking in the whole scene. She hears what I do. Rose doesn’t respond with words but actions. She walks to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. I peer over her shoulder.
It’s in a blink of an eye I see a familiar boot race down the hallway. And it’s not walking either and not in the same shape as it was the last time I saw it. I shove Rose to the side and race behind the men. I’m hot on their tail when they lay a body on a bed. My knees threaten to give out on me, but not before I get to him. Saxon. My man. My love.
His towering body lies lifeless on a mattress. I race over to him and am hit with the smell of burnt flesh. His face is unrecognizable. It’s his bloody knuckles I recognize. My world stops spinning. This can’t be happening.
“Saxon.” I cup his face, place the tender flesh of my palm on top of his bruises and cuts. He doesn’t respond. Tears, panic, terror...nothing comes close to what I’m feeling. Men circle around me trying to pull me from Saxon. I don’t budge. I’m aware where they need to be. But I keep a hand on Saxon at all times.
“Eden, let me take care of him. Go sit down. I got him. I promise.” Zeke grips me by the shoulders, places me on the couch, and I watch him with unknowing fear as he slips through a door and disappears.
I have no idea how long I sit there staring at that door, wondering if he’s okay or if they found Wilder. My ears straining for voices. The quiet rings in my ears.
A door creaks. A sound submerges, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in my life.
“Mitts.” My body slinks to the carpeted floor. Tiny feet concealed in blue tennis shoes run my way. I can’t speak. Can’t think. Can’t thank Katch enough for bringing this boy back to me.
“Wilder.” I cry, as he jumps into my arms. His tiny hands cupping my face.
“Thank you,” I mouth to the man standing in front of me.
He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t have to either. I can see every emotion he more than likely shows to anyone written all over his face. Apology, forgiveness, and most of all, thankfulness.
“Can we go get Mommy now?” I have no idea where I get the strength to do what I’m about too. It has to be from my sister who is on her way to resting peacefully now.
“I have a story to tell you about your mommy. Will you sit on my lap and listen?”
It’s the hardest story I will ever have to tell my nephew. The hardest thing I’ve done in my life. By the time I’m finished, he’s fallen asleep in my arms with his favorite blanket and truck tucked to his side.
“You did well, Eden. The boy is going to be just fine. Katch needs to talk to you for a minute; he’s in the kitchen. I’ll hold him right here. Now, go on. Let me hold this precious little boy.” Rose takes him from my arms. I don’t want to give him up. But I do. I stand, make my way into the kitchen, where Katch is just hanging up his phone.
“I’ll deny this if you tell anyone. I treated you poorly. I apologize.”
“Excuse me,” I stutter out.
“Eden,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “Sorry.”
I’m honestly confused, but then again, my head isn’t in the right place right now.
He continues. “I need to get home to my wife, so I’m going to say this once. I don’t give a shit about the law. They can fuck off for all I care. However, Caitlin does. Don’t know why, the woman does some shady-ass shit herself. That’s beside the point. My point is, we all know you’re going to have to tell the cops, Child Protective Services, and anyone else to ask how you found him. You tell them you got a call from the fire department here. They had the boy. You study this name, this face, and all the information I have in here before you go home. They’ll believe it. Trust me. Trust your man in there and trust in the club.”
Then he strides out of the room without a second glance back. The picture in my hand trembles, and I do exactly what he told me to. It’s just before I fall asleep that night that I realize what he’s apologizing for.
Epilogue
Brick
School was never my thing and still ain’t my thing. I’ve found a new life and wouldn’t trade it for anything. Being surrounded by dozens of damn ankle biters running up and down the school hallways creeps me the fuck out. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention, nostrils flare, my hands balling into clenched fists.
Eden. It’s always about Eden. She’s my core. The beautiful woman is always bringing me right back to reality. It’s her simple touch or quick peck to my cheek that does it.
Wilder’s talking a hundred miles a minute about something as we weave through a mass of kids. None of that matters because this woman is magical. She’s attentive to Wilder while reaching for my hand, coaxing my fingers to relax and intertwine with hers. It works every single time.
It’s moments like these that we still live through every single day. There ain’t no fucking ‘happy ending riding off into the sunset’ type of bullshit where it’s all hearts and perfection. No. It’s like it’s always been between us. Real. Raw. A force.
The wounds and now scars that were left on my skin in Colorado are the brutal reminders of our reality. Eden wears hers on her soul. Ironic how our world came full circle that day and everything we fought was won, but not without a price. It shows in my limp. The deformed skin on my leg from where I was set on fire. I hated it all until Eden taught me to love them. She’s spent time kissing each of the scars until all I could focus on were her lips. Now, when I look at them, I see her, our future, and the home we’ve built.
Who knew that damn old house I was embarrassed to show her would become our kingdom. That was all Eden. She sold her house and had the club move her shit to my place while I healed. My vixen took it all on her shoulders without one complaint. Ironic how roles have shifted since the day we met.
“You okay?” She peers up to me, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“Yeah,” I growl. My leg aches something fierce, but I refuse to give in to the limp. I’m coming back stronger and better after months of healing. Nearly eight months, to be exact.
“Mitts.” Wilder tugs on Eden’s hand then points to the small playroom next to the even smaller waiting room.
It took me forever to figure out what in the hell he was calling her. She explained to me it’s what he’s always called her. His baby talk version or some shit like that, and it stuck.
“Go ahead.” She leans down and kisses the top of his head.
Wilder lets got of her hand and darts off to the play area. Legos. Yep, Wilder goes straight for the Legos. He’s infatuated with them. I bought him every damn set Target had. Even went to the Target in the neighboring town and bought him a few new sets. It was the day I took my first ride on my bike. And I was out taking care of my family.
The fact he let go of her hand on his own will is the greatest hurdle we’ve leaped. He’s afraid of being left alone, always has to be at Eden’s side or in the same room with her. The past week, I’ve found him following me around the house. It made me smile and felt fucking weird all at the same time. The person who caused this shit storm and took the life of his son’s mother might be the only bastard to thank.
To all our shock, he took damn good care of his son. Last week, at his counseling session, he opened up about the trip and his dad, the games they played and movies they watched. So much of the information comes in the form of drawings, and the rest is a tedious process of waiting for him to talk.
The boy is damn smart. Shit scares me sometimes. He knows how to run all the electronic devices playing his games, sings songs, and attempts the alphabet. Eden was persistent getting him back into the same preschool with the same teacher and familiar friends. It was the only thing she could give him that he’d remember.
I ain’t one for organized intuitions and all the damn red tape boxing you in, but watching Wilder adjust and open up, I’ll dance right through that tape.
I run my hands over my hair, stopping on the back of my neck, squeezing the worry out of it. We are all out of the danger zone but facing something even scarier. Healing. Learned a lot of shit about myself on that cold cement floor struggling to gulp in air. I’ve never healed. Fuck, haven’t even tried.
“What are you thinking about in there?” Eden snuggles into my side, staring up at me. “You’re lost in your own head again.”
I press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “You happy?”
She wrinkles her nose, not following me.
“Do you miss the hospital and working?”
It’s not a lie. So many memories, thoughts, and what ifs attack me on a daily basis. They never leave me alone, not even late at night. Every once in a while, Eden will catch me at the right time, and I’ll ask her a question to ease my soul. My attempt at healing.
“I miss some friends.” She shrugs. “We keep up on a group text. But, honestly, I don’t miss it. Still love medicine, but I’ve been there and done that. Now, I’m doing something so much more important. Building my future and loving my family the way I want.”
Honesty dances in her eyes, her smile sealing the deal, and Eden’s touch sending her words right to my heart.
It ain’t easy giving this much trust to someone. She’s mine and the world knows that, whether it be her leather cut with ‘Property of Brick’ on it or me beating the shit out of them when they look at her. What the world doesn’t know is, this woman gives more than she takes. Sacrifices her all to protect her family. First fucking time I opened my eyes after being nearly beaten to death was to Eden by my side and Prez walking into the room.
Neither of them noticed I was awake. Eden was up on her feet in the blink of an eye.
“Take me. Please, just let him be,” she pleads.
&n
bsp; “Eden, you need to be sleeping. Can’t be staying up all hours through the night while Wilder sleeps. You’re gonna crash, and that ugly bastard needs you.”
Their footsteps grow closer.
“I know you’re going to punish him for me walking into church. Please don’t.” She pauses. “Punish me. Do what you need to do. Just leave him alone.”
Using all my energy, I roll my head to the side to see Curtis pull Eden into a hug. Her body shudders with her own sobs. Prez rocks her back and forth until her cries quiet. My eyelids grow heavy, but I refuse to give in to sleep.
“Brick’s paid his dues. Ain’t no punishment coming. The brother fought with all he had.” The words get stuck in his throat, coming out full of emotion. Only seen Prez get choked up one time, and that’s the day he buried his dad.
“Good, darlin’.”
“That’s it? After I just word vomited on you?” She slaps my chest and then sits back in her chair. I don’t miss her wincing when she does. She’s been going to the gym every morning. Wilder takes some kind of class there, while Eden works out. Should start to remember that kind of shit.
Gonna need to ask the prospect to figure that out and relay the information. My woman and boy always have someone with them at all times. It’s me or a prospect, and I don’t ever see that shit changing. You piss off one hornet’s nest and another one is lurking in the shadows waiting their turn to attack.
“Quit your bitching before I stick my—” I lean in to whisper in her ear—“my big, fat cock in your mouth.”
Eden giggles and shakes her head, pushing me back. I relax back in the seat, stretching out my legs. And just like that, Eden used her voodoo magic on me, forcing the cyclone of demons in my head to quiet. We are chipping away at a solid block of wood to reach the core of us. Or, as my loving dickhead brother likes to refer to, chipping away the layers of my brick wall.
When Opposites Collide Boxset Page 61