by S. E. Jakes
“You’re trying to distract me. The point is, you didn’t want me to know about Havoc.”
He nodded slowly, then said firmly, “I didn’t see you selling out Noah—you called him your best friend. Even after he almost got you killed and ditched you, you gave him a second chance. Funny, Sean, I’ve never had to give my MC a second chance because they’ve always had my back. Even if I did something stupid, they’d bail me out, give me hell for it for my own good. So tell me, Sean, I’m supposed to ditch my MC’s trust for a guy who won’t even listen to me about personal safety?”
“A guy, huh?” Jesus, that stung. I went after him, mainly blind rage. Ryker was strong, but I gave as good as I got before we were pulled apart. Someone held my arms behind my back and that’s when I really started to lose it.
Someone was holding Ryker back too and the weird thing was, he was yelling at them, “Let Sean go. Let go of him . . .”
He sounded more angry than worried that they were holding me, unconcerned that he was restrained.
When whoever held me finally listened, I was too numb to do much more than walk away.
Kid can fucking fight.
Heard he’s good with a knife too.
I stood on his porch, not sure why I was waiting for a guy who was pretty pissed at me, if the way my jaw and ribs ached were any indication.
He wasn’t far behind—wasn’t surprised to see me. Barked, “Stay,” then came back with ice for both of us. “Guess you know how to defend yourself.”
“Did you really doubt me?”
“It’s a hundred times more difficult than you can imagine in this world. You see it from the outside. You need to think of it like the Army. You want in, there are rules. You marry into it? There are still motherfucking rules. And don’t tell me you never saw a spouse fuck up an Army guy’s career with her I won’t follow rules crap.”
When he put it that way, it made sense. But Ryker found me. I didn’t know what I was in for when I let him into my bed. The farther I’d got pulled in, the more I’d resisted everything. Mainly because that’s just who I was.
And the worst part? Ryker knew that. Because he seemed to know every goddamned thing about me. And I was still fascinated by that. “I didn’t sign up as spouse.”
“You came here. To my MC. My house. You represent me,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I was a job,” I countered, with clenched teeth of my own.
He sighed. Closed his eyes, balanced the ice where I’d landed a great right hook. My hand would ache for days, but that was all right. No one at this motherfucking compound was going to take advantage of me.
Finally, he said, “You started out as a job.”
“When did it end? After the first night you fucked me?”
“No.”
“Second? Third? Fourth? Twentieth?”
If Ryker clenched his jaw any harder when he ground out, “No,” I was pretty sure it’d break.
But I didn’t let that stop me. “Last week?”
“I’m still on it.”
“So this protection bullshit—it’s for Havoc, not me.”
“It’s both,” Ryker said. “Because Havoc is my family, and I protect what’s mine.”
“Right.” My throat tightened bitterly. Because I didn’t have a family beyond Noah and Billy, and Billy was gone and Noah was . . . Fuck. “Okay.”
Because what was the point of arguing or trying to make this something it wasn’t. Sweet already told me that Ryker never committed, that he rarely spent long with any one person, and when he was done, he never went back. And sure, I could argue that he’d been with me for a while, but since it’d started out as protecting Havoc and that hadn’t changed, I figured it pretty much canceled any hope out. “How the fuck was this ever going to work between us?”
“This is coming from Mr. No Commitment?”
I pointed to him. “Fuck you, Ryker. Because you changed that. You let me change it, and what, you knew you couldn’t tell me things?”
“Lot of people who marry into the MC don’t know things.”
I threw my hands into the air. My brain was spinning as I tried to process all of this. He’d reeled me in, for what? To keep me dangling whenever he wanted me? To keep me in line?
“Right, because that’s happening,” Ryker muttered.
“Dammit.” I took a deep breath and stuck my hands in my pockets, stared at the floor.
. . . let’s be honest, Rush—as much as someone could fuck you up? Because of what you do, you’ll fuck anyone up who crosses your path. You’re always going to be alone. You’re better off like that . . . guys like us always are.
My father’s words played over and over in my mind as I went inside and stuffed my clothes in my bag. At some point, Ryker came inside, and he was watching me. “I’m going home. I’m quitting my freelancing with BT. I’ve got money saved. I don’t want to hear from Havoc or the Hangmen or Noah. Or you.”
I waited for an argument, and I got none. He let me go. Even if he’d come after me, I wouldn’t have gone back with him. This wasn’t one of those showboat moments, and at least Ryker knew me well enough to know that.
I got home, threw my bag down, and sat on my couch. The rest of the day was passed watching mindless TV. I didn’t want to have to think or deal. The truth was, I did have good savings. My rent wasn’t much, and I owned my car outright. But I couldn’t sit around all day because I’d go crazy. Eventually.
But for a little while, until I got my shit together, I could. For a week, I ordered takeout and I read and I watched mindless TV. And I thought a lot about what I wanted to do next, all while ignoring Noah’s calls.
Ryker didn’t call, text, or come over.
I deleted the Grateful Dead tracks from my iPod shuffles because if I didn’t, I’d lose my resolve.
I’d have to start over, and leave Havoc behind, along with Ryker, Noah, and Officer McKibbins, and my memories of this place. And maybe that was a good thing. A fresh start.
Like the Army was supposed to be.
Well, it had changed me. So had Ryker. And I tried hard not to miss him, but I did. Every time I crawled into bed, I thought about him. My body tensed, cock hardened. I told myself it was the bed. So I’d go to the couch. But then I’d sit and wonder, how did he get in here in the first place, because he never did tell me.
Guess it was going to be one of those great mysteries.
I did sleep though, with the aid of Scotch. And being without him wasn’t getting easier. He was too close, too easily accessible. I had to put as much space between us as I could.
eard about Noah,” Linc told me from where he was splayed across my couch.
“Heard from him?” I asked. He glanced at me, and I sighed. “Forget it. I don’t want you to have to lie.”
“He feels like shit about everything.”
“He should. Fucking asshole almost killed me,” I shot back. “You sure he’s all right?”
It was Linc’s turn to sigh. “He will be, now that he knows you don’t hate him forever.”
“I’m worried about him.” I didn’t mention the Jethro stuff—I didn’t know what Noah had said to Linc, and hell, I knew Noah was in good hands. Finally.
Took the fucker long enough.
Linc nodded. “That’s cool. But you can’t fix him, you know.”
“Thanks, Dr. Linc.”
“Fuck off, Rush.”
When he’d come in, he’d thrown a large envelope on the coffee table before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer. I hadn’t touched it. Now, he motioned to it, asking, “You’re really going off the grid?”
I was. Moving to Florida was the first step. There was a pretty good need down there for mechanics on high-end cars and boats. I’d reached out to Linc to grab me new IDs and credit cards and shit, so I could open a bank account. I didn’t want anyone to know what I’d done in my former life. I’d planned on no stealing, no racing.
I’d paid ahead a month for my place here,
in case it didn’t work out. I was leaving tonight. “I’ve got to start over. I’m already packed.”
“Yeah, I saw that. Listen, I was thinking of sticking around Shades for a while. My brother’s on my case, and I need some time away. Is it cool if I stay here?” he asked.
“Place is paid up for the month. Don’t fuck it up—I want my security deposit back.” I handed him the extra set of keys, all while thinking, Worst idea ever.
But hell, old habits died hard. And Linc had dropped everything to get me what I needed.
Linc smiled. “Cool. Thanks. I’m going to go look around for a bit—I’ll be back before you leave.” He gave a wave and closed the door behind him.
When the bell rang five minutes later, I called out, “You have the goddamned keys, Linc.” But when I opened the door, it was Greta standing there.
“I’m not going back,” was the first thing I said to her.
“Good for you. I’m not here to bring you back.”
Oh, snap. “Fine.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Think you’re too old for a lecture?”
“I supposed the correct answer’s no.”
“Wiseass. You’re all that way when you’re hurt or scared.” She brushed past me. By the time I’d closed the door, she was in the living room, cleaning, gathering up the take-out containers and beer and soda empties. I was going to argue, but really, why? So I sat and waited.
She ended up in the kitchen. After a few minutes, I smelled fresh coffee brewing.
She stuck her head out of the doorway. “I’m not bringing it to you.”
I went in and joined her at the table. After we took a few sips, she said, “Your parents?”
“Not around,” was all I offered. She raised a brow, and I sighed. “My mom split and Dad’s in jail.”
“For how long?”
“He’s still there.” She stared at me until I admitted, “Life sentence.”
“For?”
Jesus. “He shot and killed two security guards while he was robbing a bank.”
She studied me, turning the mug around in her palms. “You pulled yourself up and out and escaped. Why?”
“I didn’t want to live in the shitty places I grew up in. I saw a lot of losers.”
“So you learned how to be a better criminal, and, somehow, a better person.”
“I guess. I’ve never hurt anyone. Cars I steal are insured to the max. And rarely driven. Hell, they’re like chess pieces to most collectors.”
She considered that. “So what now?”
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” Because the last person I was telling where I was going was her.
“Like I said, hiding the hurt.”
“Obviously not successfully,” I muttered. “I like fixing cars. I like stealing them too. Doing either of those around here now without protection is suicide.”
“You’ve attracted attention. But that’s not new. Boys were talking about recruiting you long before this.”
I glanced up at her. “I’m glad I get St. Ryker’s approval.”
She snorted. “That boy’s the farthest thing from an angel. Gave Havoc a run for their money and then some. Because of him, the police raided our compound—the first and only time—when he was seventeen. So he gets you, Sean. Ryker’s had his eyes on you since you were just past jailbait. But then you went into the Army and came back more of a man. And scarred, in here.” She pointed to her heart. “Just like Ryker.”
“He lied to me.”
“So?”
I stared at her, trying to think of something. Finally, I did. “He doesn’t trust me.”
“Honey, he doesn’t trust the world. He’s all about protecting Havoc, but this had just as much to do about protecting you as it did the MC.”
“What, you’re his matchmaker?”
She wagged a finger at me. “Be a shame if your smart mouth stood in the way of being happy. Stupid too, and I know you’re not.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“I don’t care.”
“Look, I don’t owe you shit. You’re not my mother, and Havoc’s not my fami—” I stood and walked away before I could finish the word. In my head, I cursed.
I heard her get up. I was figuring she’d be out the door. But then her hand was on my shoulder, and she said, “That’s what I thought.”
“Right. So now you know. Thanks for stopping by.”
She shook her head a little. “Forest for the trees, Rush.”
I didn’t know what she meant beyond that I was missing a point, and then she nodded and was gone.
The hardest part was driving past the Leaving Shades Run sign. So many memories in Shades. Some good, some terrible . . . but all of them mine. My childhood. Billy and Noah. Havoc.
Ryker.
Every hour or so, I convinced myself that this move was a mistake, but I was too hard-headed to turn around. Also, I reminded myself that Ryker had let me walk—again—and although I couldn’t blame him for doing exactly what I’d wanted him to do, I was still pissed.
I had to keep Ryker safe, which meant keeping Havoc safe. Which meant keeping the kids safe. Skipping town, leaving McKibbins and his wiretap request behind, should take the pressure off things.
All I knew for sure was that being angry sucked. Being selfless sucked just as much.
Both together? Fucking unbearable.
I’d opened the roof to catch the warm sunshine. I’d been on the road for ten hours, and I was almost to the new place when my phone rang. I glanced down at the ID and saw Gypsy’s Bail Bonds. And my first thought, of course, was Linc.
“Hey Gypsy.”
“Hey, Rush, wasn’t sure I’d catch you. We’ve got a situation here.”
“Let me guess—Linc?”
He gave a short laugh. “He’s an Army buddy of yours?”
“I guess I’m supposed to acknowledge him. What did he do?” Because he’d been in Shades Run for, like, literally thirty-six hours at this point, and while not his best record, it was close.
“Ah, the police picked him up for getting a little rowdy at Bertha’s,” Gypsy said. “He called me for bail, mentioned your name. I’ll bail him out if he’s cool.”
You know what? Shades needed a touch of Linc. “He dropped everything, and drove six hours in the middle of the night to get me what I needed. If you need me to come down to the station . . .”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. He said he didn’t want to wake you up.”
I said a mental note of thanks to Linc for not revealing that I was already out of there. “Thanks, Gypsy. He’s not staying in Shades long.”
“That’s what they all say, Rush.”
’d rented an apartment close to the beach, a one bedroom with a kitchenette. It wasn’t a shithole by any means, and I could definitely afford better, but I wasn’t ready to blow everything right now.
I furnished it with some cool secondhand stuff, plus a brand-new bed. And I painted the walls over the too-bright white. I bought pots and pans and pretended I’d cook. I got all the takeout menus I could. I took long runs on the beach, in the mornings before work and sometimes after work as well. I swam in the ocean. I went out at night and flirted shamelessly, but didn’t kiss anyone.
Three weeks passed uneventfully, with me throwing all my excess energy into all things legal, trying to tire myself out too much to crave stealing, racing, or Ryker. The bonus was that the nightmares had ebbed.
Since my second day in Florida, I’d worked at a garage a mile from the apartment. I’d set up the job ahead of time through a Craig’s List ad, and I was pleasantly surprised that the garage was as nice as it looked in the pictures. A family-owned operation, three generations, and none of them looked like car thieves. They were old Florida money, and the shop was run well. They were impressed by my work.
I was going to die of boredom, but hey, I guess you couldn’t have everything.
Linc checked in by text. Told me he was still hangi
ng around Shades, that my landlord said he could lease the apartment for another month if he wanted. I had questions I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. I was ripping away from Shades completely, a clean break.
I never answered Linc’s texts, but that didn’t stop him from sending them. I’d been there a month and I hadn’t been able to bring myself to get a new phone number—even though I didn’t want to cut everyone off completely, I had to. I’d changed the address on my bills for a fresh start, and I didn’t need Linc to get desperate and start breaking into cell phone records.
It was definitely on my list for tomorrow, I told myself as I pulled up to my apartment after a long day at work and found my car surrounded by Hangmen.
Because of course they had a Florida chapter.
“You Sean Rush?” a tall redhead asked me as I got out of the car.
“Who wants to know?”
The redhead stared at me. “Casey wants to talk to you.”
“North Carolina Casey?”
“He’s here,” the redhead told me. “We’re supposed to bring you to him. Now.”
He pointed to a truck, a large four-by-four on too-big tires, with the windows open and music blaring.
“I don’t want to talk to him,” I said, but I climbed into the truck anyway, because they’d bring me to him no matter what. “Who’s your president here?” I asked once we got on the road. The redhead turned to me and stared. “Ah, it’s you.”
Serious shit if the president of the chapter was sent to get me himself. I steeled myself for what would happen next. Pushed around like a pinball, bounced from club to club. And fuck, how the hell had Casey found me anyway?
Fucking Linc.
Casey was in the clubhouse, nursing a drink. “Thanks for coming, Rush.”
“Like I had a choice,” I practically hissed. “What the fuck are you trying to do to me?”
“Relax, Rush. No one’s blowing your cover.” He offered me a drink, and I took it down, and he poured me another. “Nervous?”
“Annoyed,” I lied.
“I need your help, Rush.”
“No one knows who I am here.”
“I’ll keep it that way.”
“No one knows I’m here,” I said through clenched teeth.