by Ryan Michele
Austyn’s smile continues to beam. “That’s no secret, babe. But one thing that I have is brains, and he set you up coming here.”
“I made him,” the woman sneers. Damn, the bitch is stupid.
Micah turns to his woman. “You’re not helping here. Just keep your mouth shut until I can get us out of here.”
Her eyes narrow. “You expect me to stand here and let some bitch call you names?”
Austyn pushes Micah as he tries to grab a chair to save his sorry ass. It doesn’t work as my sister bum rushes the chick, punching her in the nose, and blood splatters as the woman goes down hard.
I step forward as Micah turns to the chick, ready to throw a fist to his face; except, I’m not fast enough, and Ryker gets there first.
“That’s for her callin’ my woman a bitch. Don’t do that shit here or anywhere,” Ryker says above Micah. “You may’ve gotten away with causin’ and sayin’ shit before in this club, but know this now—I won’t put up with it. Next time, you’ll be dead.”
“This is no way to get in our good graces,” I remind Micah and turn to Ryker holding up my fist, to which Ryker bumps it. “If you weren’t gonna do it. I was.”
“Alright, boys, let’s break it up.” Tug comes over putting himself in a position to separate us all. “Get up, kid, and get out of here. Be at my house at nine am sharp and we’ll talk.”
Fucker should’ve never been here in the first place, but Tug wanted him here, so he’ll have to suffer the consequences.
Just another party at the Ravage MC.
4
Carsyn
He’s going to kill me if he finds out what I’m doing. That thought keeps running on repeat over and over as I get the laundry all together throughout the house. Our dryer hasn’t been working, so I’ve been taking everyone’s clothes to the laundromat because it’s faster. Since getting a new machine isn’t top priority for Buck, this has become a weekly routine. He doesn’t care as long as the job gets done.
None of the guys want anything to do with washing clothes, and it’s becoming my only peace.
All morning though, I’ve been walking on pins and needles just hoping to act normal enough that Buck and the other guys don’t see a change in me. I’m not stupid—I know I’m being paranoid. I just can’t help it. It’s like if I move a certain way or do something just a bit different it’s going to tip them off.
Buck is capable of anything, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of me. He also knows me too well, and getting away with anything takes finesse.
But for once in my life, I’m going to be selfish and have a normal conversation with someone. Maybe feel what life is like when you can talk freely with someone. Yet, I’ll have to remember to be on my toes.
Shit.
This is going to be hard. It won’t be as free as I’d like, but it’s more than I have now. And it’s with Nox, the boy I crushed on when I started high school, back when crushes meant something. This is probably a mistake. I know it, but I still find myself making every move to have this moment for myself.
Carrying the last load to the car, Buck comes up to me, his strides quick. I try to keep the shivers at bay but fail. He says they’re because I want him. Yet, the real reason is I just don’t want to be around him. He makes my skin crawl.
“Be back in two hours or I’m comin’ for ya.”
I nod once. He doesn’t offer to help me load this last bit in the car. He doesn’t offer to have someone come with me to fold the laundry, which I’m happy for. To him, I’m a work horse. I shop. I clean and cook. I do laundry, and I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen and he and I lived alone. It’s a norm for me, and I see the other women around here not having to do any of it. Makes me wonder what it would be like to not have to be a dolled-up Cinderella.
Buck grabs my chin forcefully pulling my lips to his. He smells of some kind of fish he must’ve had for lunch, making me want to throw up in his mouth. I kiss him back just to get it over with. It’s easier this way, and I keep mints in my bag.
He pulls away. “No fuckin’ around. Got me.”
“Yes, Buck.” He stares in my eyes like he can read inside my brain if I’m telling him the truth or not. Since I am, he pulls away and stomps off. He’s always so angry about everything, has been since the death of his father.
Getting in the car, I get my small escape. The laundromat on Gains is about ten minutes further than I’d normally go, but I thought being a bit further away would reduce the risk of getting caught.
My bruises are getting better, but I still have to cover as much of me as possible, and it’s hot as hell so I sweat. The good thing is my body is moving. Sometimes it’s out of sheer force, but I move. I know better than to give into the pain. The tighter I keep my body, the longer the agony. The more I move, the more I stretch, and the more mobile I become. Each day gets better.
Pulling up to the place, there are no motorcycles in the lot.
Maybe he decided not to come.
I don’t know if the thought makes me sad or relieved. Forgetting about the lost and disappointed feeling that brings on, I unload my car, then load all the machines. It takes a bit of time since no one in the house sorts anything.
One day, I’m going to throw a red sock in with the whites and make the guys wear pink underwear. That’d go over really well. Like I’d ever do it, though. That’s a price I wouldn’t want to pay.
The laundromat is standard with rows of machines in the middle and dryers on the back wall. There are two people in the place who I don’t recognize.
Moving to the bench after hitting start, I take a seat and lay my head back against the glass wall. I have five machines going and know they will each go thirteen minutes and drying will take around twenty. Folding will take the longest, but I’ll make it work because being late for Buck isn’t an option.
Peace.
For so many this is a chore they can’t wait to get over with. Not me. This is my solace away from the madness. The hum of the machines is relaxing, and it’s the only time when I can let my guard down.
For nine years, I’ve kept my guard up never knowing what was going to happen next to me. This time right here, I can be normal even if it’s only for a couple of hours.
“Excuse me.” I jump at the woman’s voice and nearly fall off my chair. “Oh dear!” With my hand on my chest, I work on getting my heart rate back down. Paranoia sucks. The peace I was feeling moments ago vanishes.
Sucking in a deep breath and putting a small smile on my face, I answer, “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just wondering if you had an extra quarter. I’m short one for the dryer.” The woman is older with gray hair that looks as though it’s been curled within an inch of its life. Her face shows of experience and eyes show wisdom.
Fishing in my pocket, I pull one out and hand it to her.
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Glad to help.”
The woman goes to the dryers, and the sound of motorcycle pipes comes in loud and clear. Nox rides up, dark hair blowing in the wind and eyes covered with mirrored shades. I feel it the second his eyes connect with mine, even with the glasses on, and my body heats and hands start to sweat. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, and a giddy feeling comes over me. A small smirk plays on his lips as he shuts the bike down and pulls his leg over.
My insides are twisted and nerves race through my body. Brushing my hands on my shorts, I try to remove some of the wetness. This is so far out of my comfort zone, but damn he looks so good.
He wastes no time coming into the building. The way he does it, though, is what makes my heart thump. Each step is confident and sure. Not in a fearful and controlling way Buck does. Nox is completely different. His is so natural and each step is just him. So much different from the young him, yet the same as well.
He tears off his glasses, and I have to tell myself to breathe. He’s even more gorgeous than the other day at the store when
he caught me off guard. The lines of his face are perfect, accentuating everything. His beard is beautiful and clean shaven. Each thing adding with the other, completing the package that is Lennox Cruz.
“Hey, beautiful.” He sits down next to me, my hands fidgeting. This is so far out of my comfort zone. Add in Buck and it’s wrapped in fear as well. I’ve never really sat and talked to a man before, and I feel a little embarrassed with my lack of experience in that area. It’s as if I’m that teenaged girl who had the crush of a lifetime, not knowing what to do or say.
“You came.” It comes out a quiet whisper showing surprise yet relief.
He lifts his leg onto the bench seat turning his body to me. I steal a few glances from under my lashes, seeing his plump lips tip at the sides. His beard is cut very short to the skin, all dark and mysterious.
“Told ya I would.”
“Yeah.”
A sudden unease hits, and I look around the place and outside feeling something, but not knowing what.
“What’s wrong? You got all panicked.”
He’s not here. The guys aren’t here.
Regulating my breathing, I calm myself, something I learned years ago. I looked it up on the Internet when I had trouble breathing during certain situations and found out they are panic attacks. Controlling them by breathing in and out steadily has helped tremendously. Another thing that helps is connecting my ring finger with my thumb and rubbing them together. It’s strange and most people don’t see it, but to me it’s something tangible to touch and feel. These attacks will not control me. So much of my control has been stripped—except for this.
“Just making sure no one followed you.” This is taking everything inside of me not to flee. Escape. Run. Avoid—knowing what will happen if Buck catches me.
The other two people are sitting on the other side of the laundromat, so they won’t hear us. We’re good. This is good. Damn, I’m twenty-four-years-years-old and can’t even sit and talk to a man without freaking out. This is pathetic. When did I become this woman?
At age fifteen when my life was destroyed. The answer screams at me inside my head.
I try to push back the sadness because that gets you nowhere. Buck likes it when I cry. In turn, I learned to school myself when the sadness becomes too much, at least in his presence. It’s so hard being two separate people, at least that’s what I feel like most of the time. In the end, for me, this is the only way I survive my existence. And that’s what it is, an existence. This isn’t a life.
“Nope. We’re good."
My hands fidget, and there’s a small bit of silence before he asks, “Tell me what you’ve been up to since school. I know you left sophomore year,” completely catching me off guard.
A small hiccup comes out in the form of a laugh. He’s funny. There hasn’t been a me since I lost my mom at fifteen. On top of that, my life isn’t anything like that kid he knew back then.
“Okay…” he drags out the word, obviously knowing I don’t want to talk about that time one bit. “How about tell me your favorite color?”
“Green,” I respond.
“That was easy enough. What do you like to do?”
This question puzzles me, and the only thing I can think of is, “Laundry.”
He chuckles. “Laundry isn’t something you like to do. It’s a chore, a job.”
“It’s something I like doing. Look around you.” He does a quick sweep. “It’s quiet. There’s no one here. There’s no one giving orders. This is heaven.”
He studies me intently and I look away, not wanting him to see inside of me. It is not a place he needs to be. I’ve already got Buck in there, and I sure as hell don’t need Nox too.
Nox reaches over and pulls a small strand of my hair, and I flinch so used to being hit. Breathing through it, I move back and he touches the same part of my hair again. This time I’m steady.
“What color is your hair? I remember it a light brown.” He doesn’t acknowledge the flinch, but I know he saw it.
That’s at least an easy one. “Brown. It’s darker than back then, though.”
“Why do you color it like this?”
Turning, my hair falls from his fingertips. “Buck likes it.”
“Ah… Buck. Let’s talk about him.”
My arms cross over my chest, feeling like I want to crawl in a whole. I worry about what to say. I worry about everything. That’s all my life is… one big worry. Then stupid mistakes happen leading to punishments. “Let’s not.”
He ignores me pressing on. “What made you come to live with him?”
How would he know that? Did he check up on me? Did he ask about me? That can only lead to problems. The less he knows the better for all of us. “I think you should go. I need to finish this and get back to the house.”
I rise from my seat and check the washers, which have another three or four minutes. Shit. Gripping my arms, I move back over to Nox and lean against the wall next to the bench.
“Not leavin’, Carsyn. Talk to me.”
“Why? Why tell you this? You’re going to go on with your life and in a few months or so never remember this. It’s better if you just go and we part ways.”
“Babe, ya gotta know I’m not that man.”
“What man?”
“The kind who gives up on something.”
“You don’t even know me,” I fire back, feeling anger building.
He smiles. “There’s the fire.”
I’m not sure why he says that. He doesn’t know any flame of mine. Those were blown out a long time ago.
“Nox, this isn’t right. If Buck catches us, I’m going to be in serious trouble.”
He shakes his head. “Answer me, please. What happened that you ended up living with him? I would really like to know what happened to the ambitious spitfire of a girl.”
Hand to my neck, I feel heat rising. He really did notice me back in school. He knew me better than I thought. That pains me and makes me happy at the same time. All those times when I thought he wasn’t paying any attention to me, he was. At least a little bit, enough to know some things about me.
Never have I talked to anyone about what happened when I was fifteen. Ever. It’s been locked inside of me for nine years. Why I left. Everything was swept under the rug, Buck’s doing, and something he says I have to pay him back for. And something he says he’ll never forgive me for.
As it is now, I’ll never be able to pay Buck back to a point he’ll loosen his grasp on me. This is my only shot to breathe. Even if it is for a fleeting moment.
I’ve never wanted to tell anyone, but for some reason I want to tell Nox. My mind wars with itself trying to come up with a decision.
I suck in a deep breath. “When I was fifteen, I was driving my mother and stepfather to dinner. I had a permit, and they were letting me try it out.” Looking down at my hands, I can’t look at him and see whatever is on his face. Buck never let me talk about it and only got more pissed if I even mentioned my mother. Learning to stop talking about it is easy when you get punched in the throat for it. I can’t help but hesitate, unable to get the words out then finding them. “I lost control of the car, and I was the only one who walked away.”
I jump when a warm hand comes over top of mine, but he doesn’t move away as electricity sparks between us. “Go on.”
His touch gives me strength to speak. “Buck was twenty and said he’d take me in because there was no one else and I’d end up in foster care. Therefore, I moved away with him. We just got back to town about a year ago.”
“Why did you come back?”
All these questions start to make my head swirl. Why does he have to be so damn easy to talk to? Why can’t he be a bump on the log? I take that back. I never would want Nox to be a bump on a log. Maybe just a man who lets things go and doesn’t push. But that’s part of his charm as well. The tornado in my head can stop at any time.
“You can tell me.”
Sucking in a deep breath, all th
e consequences of what I’ve already told him twirl in my head. My mother always said go big or go home. I guess this is one of those times. Shit. I know I won’t be able to walk if Buck finds out.
How can I tell him any more? He squeezes my hands, and that unlocks something inside of me. Comfort. That’s exactly the feeling he gives me.
“He said he needed to come back and be part of the Rangers. He was here years ago. Brought me in and I’ve been here ever since. How’s your sister?” I jump in before he can ask me another question. He smirks knowing my play, but I can’t talk about me anymore. I’ve given him way too much as it is. He gives me my out.
“Great. She’s got a man, Ryker, and is happy as can be. She deserves it, but don’t tell her I told you that.” He winks playfully, and I really don’t know how to handle it. Yes, the guys at Rangers do it all the time to get my attention, but this is different. Nox doesn’t want ‘Buck’s woman’s’ attention. He wants Carsyn, and it kills me that she’s gone. That she’s drifted so far away there’s no chance in finding her again. Nox would’ve really loved her. Hell, I really loved her.
“That’s good. I see you joined your father’s club. Everyone always knew you would.”
“Yep. Joined as soon as I could and wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
The washers stop their spin cycle, and I jump up. “I’ll be right back. I need to change them out.”
Not only does this give me time to breathe, but it gives me time to think as well. I switch over the clothes as Nox comes to stand beside me. “I’d offer to help you, but I’m not touching another man’s underwear.”
A small smile tugs at my lips. It’s so foreign and different. The way it pulls at my cheek wakes up different nerves on my face that have been gone for so long.
“Ahh. There’s the smile.”
I feel my face heat up and try to hide it, still taking over clothes and tossing them in dryers.
Nox sets the lid down on an empty washer and hops up. “You know, I thought you lost that smile.”
It dies on my lips because he’s right. It is lost. Gone. Vanished into the air. Today was the first in years. The fake one I’ve mastered doesn’t count.