Axle Reynolds murdered my dad. He did. I know it.
My hands slide between my knees, and I rock on the bench, trying to ease the pain consuming me from the inside out, but it doesn’t help. All the stupid hopes I had that we could make it together, that he wouldn’t care who I was, are dead.
Because it was my dad who killed his.
No. I won’t believe it. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop me from seeing Gage’s face or silence the final words he spat into my face.
Everything he said about me being special, about how I was his girl and he hadn’t been with anyone else, were the usual club lies. And I sucked it all up, because I wanted him to be different.
He’s a Viking Bastard. They’re no different than the Silver Wolves when it comes to closing ranks against the outside world. And women are always outside. It doesn’t matter what I think I remember. Mom’s told me how it really was, and I thought I was so special that it didn’t apply to Gage and me.
But at the first hurdle all he can do is throw accusations and lies in my face. They can’t be faithful, so they always think the worst. Bile burns me that he could imagine, for even a second, that I’d ever been with Rex. That he refused to hear anything I said.
That he’d acted just like I always knew a Bastard would act.
I sniff and roughly swipe the tears leaking from my eyes. I’m not crying over him. It’s a bleak promise. I know I will, but not in public. Never in public. The wind’s gotten cold and I shiver, wrapping my arms around my waist and I stare, unseeing, across the forlorn little park.
Dad was the Wolves enforcer. I’ve always known it, but somehow it’s never been real. Maybe because I was still only a kid when he died, and I was shielded from the reality of what he might’ve done for his club.
An icy chill snakes through me. What if Gage wasn’t talking shit? What if he’s right?
No. That’s not how it happened. Dad was murdered in cold blood while he was inside, and sure, Axle Reynolds was killed soon after by those loyal to the Wolves, but those are the facts.
Mom told us. It’s why we had to leave the only home I’d known and change our name.
Unease slithers through me. For the first time, things don’t add up or make sense. As kids, we were too devastated by Dad’s death to question anything she said or did, and as the years went by…well, it just hurts too much to talk about.
It still hurts. But we need to talk.
…
She’s already home by the time I arrive, cleaning the goddamn oven of all things. I lean against the counter, and she finally stops what she’s doing to look up at me. “Are you going out again?”
“No.” I can’t get warm, and tug my jacket further across my chest. “Mom, I need to talk.”
She sighs and gets to her feet. “It’s okay, honey. I didn’t mean to shout at you earlier. It was just a shock, that’s all. You know what you’re doing. If you need to get your bad-boy phase out of your system, go ahead. I’ll always be here to pick up the pieces.”
I hunch my shoulders and nearly chicken out. It’d be so much easier to just cry on her shoulder and tell her what a complete jerk Gage is. And he is. It doesn’t matter how much I try and delude myself, he always was, and I was blind to it.
Don’t think about him. Not now, when I need to find out the truth about my dad.
I already know the truth.
Yeah. I do. I just need Mom to confirm it, and then I can get on with getting over my bad-boy phase.
“It’s about Dad.” The words rush out of me before I can change my mind. She frowns, as though she doesn’t understand what I mean.
“Dad? What about him?” Then her face clears. “Oh, you’re worried what he’d think about you dating a biker? Well, honey, I guess—”
“No, I’m not worried about that.” My voice is sharp, and I know it’s because of the guilt churning through me. Of course, Dad would hate that I’m dating Gage, but I’m not about to tell Mom that. “I want to know exactly what happened with how he died.”
She stares at me in obvious shock. “You know what happened.”
I take a deep breath. “Did Axle Reynolds really kill him?”
“Why are we even talking about this? It’s in the past. I don’t want to go over it all again.” She turns away and starts fussing with the coffee machine while her words echo in my head.
Why didn’t she just say yes? My stomach churns with nerves but I can’t back down now.
“Or did Dad kill Reynolds?”
She freezes, and it’s like a giant hand squeezes my heart. It doesn’t matter what she says now. Finally, I’m close to the truth. And it’s killing me.
Slowly she turns around. Her face is white, and it’s like she’s aged ten years in seconds. “Amy, what’s this all about?” Her voice is barely above a whisper but there’s a thread of fear there as if…she knows.
There’s no point in keeping any more secrets. It’s over, anyway. “I was seeing Gage Reynolds. Axle’s son.”
Her lips move but nothing comes out. Then she lets out a ragged breath. “When you said you were seeing a biker, it never crossed my mind you’d take up with a Bastard. And him, of all people. I thought you’d be safe from that life. Moving away, changing your name… Jesus.”
“Moving away?” There’s a hard, ugly note in my voice as everything I’ve ever believed crumbles around me. “We moved right into the Bastards territory. Did you even know that?”
“I got you all away from the Wolves, but I couldn’t move away from all my family. You know how much we need each other. But I never thought Reynolds’s son would come after you. God, I’m so sorry.”
“Of course he didn’t come after me. He didn’t even know who I was until today.”
She comes toward me, arms outstretched for a hug, and I back up so fast I hit the wall. Her hands clench before she folds her arms, and I can see the tears glittering in her eyes. For the first time, they don’t move me.
“You know your dad would’ve done anything for Shane Abbott.”
Of course, I do. Shane had been the Wolves president, and he always had time for me and my sisters. He was like an uncle, even if I never did think of Rex as a cousin. My stomach heaves. I don’t want to think about Rex. Ever.
“There’d been talk of an alliance with the Bastards, but Shane hated them. I don’t know all the details—it went back generations. But it wasn’t just that. He was getting crazier by the year, and there were rumors of getting rid of him, yet your dad wouldn’t hear a word said against him.”
“So what happened?”
“Your dad was only supposed to be inside for eighteen months, if that. He could’ve just done his time, and he would’ve been a hero for taking the heat off his brothers. But no. He had to listen to Shane goddamn Abbott and take out Axle Reynolds.” Mom swings around and slams a couple of cups on the counter. “So of course the Bastards don’t take that lying down. Your dad was dead by morning.” She makes coffee, then grips the edge of the counter as though she’s about to vomit. “The Wolves turned on Shane. I couldn’t risk them turning on us as well. I didn’t wait for a summons or a visit. I grabbed you girls and came back home.”
“Right.” It comes out as a croak. So, Gage was right about my dad. He still could’ve listened to me, though. Heard my side. Not jumped to conclusions and accused me of—
I slam down the thoughts. What’s the point?
“Why’d you lie to us? All these years…” My voice trails away, and I suddenly feel so tired. Defeated. It doesn’t matter why she lied. It’s not going to change anything.
She straightens and turns to face me. “You girls idolized your dad. I couldn’t tell you he’d been a stupid idiot and ruined everything for us, could I? All because he’d do anything Shane Abbott told him to. He knew things were changing at the club, but he still believed Abbott could turn everything around.” She heaves a sigh. “The Wolves might not have turned their backs on us the way I told you, but we couldn’
t have stayed. Not after what your dad did.”
We stand there in silence for a while, facing each other, but there’s nothing left to say. For ten years, I’ve believed my dad died a hero, protecting his club, and that the Wolves had rewarded his family by closing ranks against us.
He was their enforcer, and for all I know he might’ve killed other people for his club in the past. Just because I’d never believed it doesn’t mean it’s not true. And now I have to live with the fact he didn’t just kill anyone in cold blood. He killed Gage’s dad.
I hate what he did. But he’s my dad, and he’s still my hero. He always will be. He was only being loyal to his president, but God, what a fucking mess.
I can’t stand it anymore, and as I rush out of the kitchen I collide into Ava. It’s obvious by the look on her face she’s overheard at least some of the conversation, but I’m in no mood to discuss it right now.
“Go find your fake ID,” I tell her. “Tonight we’re getting pissed out of our heads.”
…
Gage
Whiskey bottle in hand, I step back into the center of the kitchen and admire my handiwork. Every fuck-ugly cabinet is ripped off the wall, the sink is in pieces, and the counter’s shredded. I take another swig of liquor, and the buzz in my mind blocks out the last memory of Amelia Davis Crane.
This is good shit. I stagger across the floor and reach the hall. I’ve always hated the old-fashioned tiles that surround the gas heater in the living room. About time they came out. It’s only two a.m., so I take another slug of whiskey before I grab my sledgehammer and advance. The satisfying smash and the flying shards of tile fill my head and the room, and it’s not long before there’s a ragged hole in the wall. I frown, pick up the bottle from the floor, and chug down some more whiskey as I contemplate my home improvements. Not bad for a first attempt.
“Hey, Gage.” Zach’s voice penetrates the comforting drone between my ears, and I swing around, almost losing my balance in the process. He’s standing at the door, a blank expression on his face, and Hawk and Ty are behind him.
“If you’re not here to help, you can fuck off.” I wave the nearly empty bottle at them.
“Sure, bro.” Zach advances. “Give me the sledgehammer.”
I grip it tighter. “I’m working.”
“We can finish up in the morning, bro.” Hawk reaches out, non-threatening, and after a couple of seconds, when I can’t think of any reason not to comply, I hand him the sledgehammer.
With that out of the way, the three of them stand in front of me, arms folded, as though they’re waiting for something. A sluggish thought crawls through my brain.
“What’re you doing here?”
Ty gives a twisted grin. “Tod was afraid to come upstairs. He called Zach.”
Without the benefit of the sledgehammer to lean on, I’m feeling weirdly unsteady. “Tod’s a fucking pussy.”
There’s no disagreement, and I stagger toward the couch. The room’s reeling around me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so smashed in my life.
…
I roll over, and vertigo hits me a split-second before I smash my face onto the floor. The smell of coffee hits me and my stomach rebels, but it’s too much effort to stand. I lie there on the floor next to the couch, and my head’s splitting open like someone drove an ax through it.
“You still alive?” Zach prods my ribs with his boot and I can’t even find the energy to retaliate. “You’re going to have one motherfucking hangover today.” He sounds way too cheerful, and it reminds me of Thanksgiving, when I was the one kicking him, after he’d gotten wasted over breaking up with Grace. I finally manage to heave myself up enough to sit on my ass and give him the finger.
“Yeah, he’ll live.” Ty’s voice is dry as he leans against the wall by the door. “Why couldn’t you just get some pussy last night instead of wrecking your place?”
My head hurts way too much to think, but not enough to stop the image of Amelia’s face flooding my mind. I don’t even have the strength to fight it. Instead I let it wash over me. The sick stench of betrayal.
“I’m meeting Grace in an hour.” Zach crouches down and frowns into my face. “You’re not gonna do anything stupid, are you? Keep away from Abbott. He’s the Wolves’ problem.”
I grunt in response, which appears to satisfy him. Ty follows Zach out, and Hawk sprawls in the chair opposite me, but doesn’t say a word. Finally, I can’t hold out any longer and stagger to the bathroom and heave my guts up. I close my eyes and press my sweaty forehead against the wall. I’ve gotten wasted more times than I can remember but never over a chick, and never this bad.
On my way back to the living room, I catch sight of the kitchen. Jesus Christ. What the fuck was I thinking? It’s like a grenade went off in there. Guess I don’t have any choice but get a new kitchen now—once I’ve cleared all the shit out, and I can’t see that happening any time soon.
Hawk hasn’t moved, and I collapse onto the couch and glower at him. This goes on forever, since Hawk’s the only guy I know who can last an entire day without saying a word. I shove my fingers through my hair and break eye-contact.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Nah.”
It seems the handful of pills I swallowed in the bathroom are useless at battling my hangover, since I can still barely see, never mind anything else.
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” Even if I did have plans to pay Abbott a visit, I’m sure as hell in no fit state to confront him today.
Hawk doesn’t bother answering.
“Be my guest if you want to clear up this shit.” I wave my arm in the direction of the smashed tiles. “Or the kitchen. Whatever.”
“Nah,” he says again, and although I know it’s just his way—why say two words when one’ll do—for some reason he’s pissing me off.
Guilt stirs, and that makes me madder than ever. I dissed my brothers for the sake of a chick who wasn’t even worth it, but they still had my back. Still looked out for me and made sure I was okay.
That’s what we do. That’s my life. What was I thinking, to put a girl before my brothers? We’d give our lives to protect each other. All Amelia did was lie to my face every time she saw me.
I always had the feeling she fit right into the biker scene. I know enough, she’d told me once. Know it? She’d fucking lived it, with the Silver Wolves.
“Fuck off, Hawk.” I close my eyes and lean my head back against the couch and try and ignore the way everything’s spinning. Ty was right. I should’ve gotten laid last night. It wasn’t as though the thought didn’t cross my mind. But even with two sexy strippers offering me anything I wanted, all I could damn well think about was Amelia.
It’d just seemed easier to grab a bottle of whiskey and drown the memory of her instead.
Now I’ve got a wrecked apartment to prove it didn’t work.
“I’ll go when I’m ready.” He doesn’t sound riled by my attitude the way Zach would be, but I’ve known him since we were both kids in elementary, and no matter what, Hawk just never loses control.
I give up trying to annoy him and pull out my cell. I don’t know what my fingers are doing, but somehow Amelia’s book fills the screen. I flip it open and right there is her dedication.
This one’s for you, Dad!
All my <3
—Amy xoxo
My heart bangs against my ribs, and I stare at the words for so long my vision goes blurry. There must be a way to delete the book off my cell, but it’s like I’m paralyzed.
For ten years, I’ve battled the frustration of never being able to settle the score against the douche who murdered my dad. Sure, he was avenged. The Bastards saw to that. But it’s not the same as the satisfaction you get from dealing out justice yourself.
If Crane had sons, we would’ve known about it. Maybe even gone gunning for them. But daughters? I don’t remember that ever coming up. Not that it would. The Bastards would never have demanded ret
ribution from girls. That’s not our way.
She loved her dad, even if he was scum.
He was only obeying the word of his crazy president.
I toss my cell next to me and groan. My whole body hurts, and it’s got nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the fact she played me like a pro. Right from the start, down in the cellar, when she reeled me in.
And then told me it was a mistake and gave her notice.
I frown. That was a gamble. She couldn’t have known for sure I’d go chasing after her like a fucking idiot.
“You finished with Amelia for good?”
I’d forgotten Hawk was still here.
“What d’you think.” I growl the words at him, not wanting to admit I made such a massive mistake in letting her close. Not that it matters. Hawk knows that already.
“Do you want me to pay Abbott a visit?”
That gets my attention. When Hawk’s this laid back, and he makes that kind of offer, there’s only one thing he’s proposing.
He’s the Bastards’ enforcer, but this is off the record, not sanctioned, and it’s only because we go back twenty years together and he’s the best damn friend a man could have.
I let out a ragged breath. I’m tempted. “I don’t know, bro.”
Was Amelia ever with Abbott? She denied it, and the stupid thing is I believe her. But is that only because I don’t want to think about her and Abbott together?
“Wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone if he OD’d. Just say the word.”
Instead of considering his offer, all I can see is Amelia’s shocked face when I told her to crawl back to her crackhead screw. I narrow my gaze at Hawk.
“What made you think she knew Abbott when we were at the Hammer?”
He shrugs. “Something. The way she looked at him. Like he was her worst nightmare.”
I brood on that, which isn’t easy given the state of my brain right now. “I don’t get it.” I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m going crazy inside my head. “Sure, Abbott had an ax to grind with the Bastards and Wolves, but why did Amelia come after me?”
Payback (Viking Bastards MC) Page 14