by Nikki Landis
“Patriot,” I whispered, sniffling as the tears threatened to fall again. “What’s your real name?”
“Dale Leonard Dixon.” He smirked. “I used to hate the fuck out of that name when I was kid.”
I held out my hand and he reached for it as I shook it lightly. “I’m Naomi Lyla Peters but my family calls me Mimi. You can too if you want.”
“Mimi,” he agreed. “Only if I still get to call you sunshine too.”
“Sure.” Biting my lip, I couldn’t resist my curiosity. “Why? I’m hardly the bubbly type.”
“You’re so curious,” he teased, bumping the end of my nose with the tip of his finger. “Your eyes are like a clear summer sky and your smile, what little of it I’ve seen, is a radiant beam of sunshine. Bright enough to shine through the darkest of nights. So, yeah, I think it fits.”
I couldn’t resist a small smile in response, and he grinned wide, holding me closer as I lay my head down on his shoulder.
“You know what else?”
“Nope,” I answered honestly.
“You keep my own monsters at bay,” he replied softly. “I haven’t experienced that before, not with anyone else. Your presence forced my nightmares away. You’re like magic.”
A light giggle left my throat and it was so shocking, I stiffened slightly. When was the last time that I laughed? “You’ve only slept next to me one night.”
“Technically two,” he contradicted, “but I think it’s gonna remain true.”
“You were a Marine, right?”
“Once a Marine, always a Marine.” His hand lifted and he stroked down the side of my cheek with one finger and then stopped, dropping his hand fast as he realized what he was doing. “Yeah, to answer your question.”
“That means you’re trained to protect and serve. I understand how you feel obligated right now ––”
“It’s not obligation, sunshine.” He cut me off, tilting my chin up. “It’s instinct. And I didn’t have to keep you here, but I wanted to,” he continued, “because something about you calls to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something in here,” he pointed to his chest and his head, “feels a pull toward you and I can’t ignore that.”
“You’re really complicated and unpredictable,” I decided aloud. “I’ve never had anyone talk to me the way you do.”
He shrugged. “I don’t play games or waste time. Just who I am.”
“Maybe you just like puzzles.”
He laughed lightly. “Maybe. I was awfully good at them as a kid.”
Searching his eyes, I swallowed hard. “If something happens to me, look after Nylah. She’s not as strong as I am.”
He flinched like I had slapped him. “Don’t say stuff like that.”
“Promise me.” I touched his cheek with a super light caress. It wasn’t sexual. I’d say it was more exploratory. I hadn’t felt gentleness in so long that a part of me craved the interaction. At the same time, I was terrified.
Patriot caught my hand as I was about to pull away. “It’s okay. Touch me.”
Hesitantly, I let my palm slowly rest all the way against the light stubble on his cheek. Our eyes remained locked the entire time.
Patriot inhaled and exhaled, the movement connecting us chest to chest. Curious, I lifted my other hand and cupped his other cheek, both hands resting against his face.
“You’re so warm.” I didn’t know why that was my only observation.
Sex was a simple transaction, two bodies merging for brief moments. Sometimes they fulfilled a need. Other times it was only one-sided.
As our skin touched, my experience with Patriot was so much more than a simple touch, so much deeper than a fleeting intimacy. He closed his eyes and sighed, opening them again with a small smile.
“Do you feel it?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Then you know what I meant.”
I did. “Dale,” I whispered as his grip tightened. “I’m afraid of everything, but the scariest thing of all? It’s wondering if I’ll ever be able to be with a man again.”
“You don’t need to worry,” he whispered, turning his head, and placing a kiss on my right palm. “If you weren’t capable, you would never be able to do what you are right now.”
Surprised, I knew he was right.
“I’m gonna be okay.” My words choked off, but I didn’t cry. Instead, I dropped my hands and hugged him around the neck. “Thank you, Patriot. That just gave me so much hope.”
“That’s why I did it, sunshine. Hope is the most powerful emotion in the whole world.”
MY ARM BEGAN TO ITCH and I glanced down, noticing the scars on my skin. My body was etched into and carved with the proof of my horrific past. Those scars would never fade completely.
I would always have to endure their presence along with the way my jaw still clicked and snapped at odd times and the fingers on my left hand weren’t quite straight anymore. Slash marks covered my stomach, breasts, and arms in various stages of healing. I’d been dragged down into the pit of Hell but I was also pulled out of it.
I’d always be grateful to the Royal Bastards MC for chasing down Alexi that night. They saved my life and gave me another chance. I wasn’t sure how I would repay the kindness I’d been given but I would find a way.
Maybe I really could start over. I wanted to try. It was hard to take that first step especially with all the bridges I burned in my past. Losing friends, jobs, and my own self-respect was nothing compared to the fact that my own parents had cut all ties, but Nylah never stopped loving me even in all my brokenness. She gave me the strength to keep going.
Patriot and my sister believed in me. I wasn’t sure I believed in myself but I wouldn’t know unless I made the effort. Truth was, reaching out was scary as hell. What if I failed? What if I let them down?
Tears filled my eyes and I brushed them hastily aside, lifting my head to find Patriot standing in front of me, his intense gaze betraying his concern.
“What’s the matter, Mimi?”
I could hide the truth but what was the point? “I’m barely staying afloat,” I admitted, “and I don’t know what to do.”
“Just keep your head above water,” Patriot advised with a whisper, moving closer.
“And If I feel like I’m drowning?”
“Then remember, sunshine,” he pleaded, his fingertip caressing my jaw as his hand lifted, “I’m out there. Your own personal lifesaver. Just ask me to throw you the line.”
My voice caught as I replied, tears threatening to fall again. “I’m not too good at reaching out.”
“That’s alright. It might be hard after everything you’ve been though but I know how to reach you even in high tide.”
The sentiment was nice but I wasn’t so sure. “Sometimes the waves pull you under.”
“That’s the great thing about a lifesaver, honey. They can reach out in shallow or deep water.”
That hope he mentioned once hovered on the edges of my heart and desperately wanted to sink in.
“Let me be your lifeline, Mimi.”
“I don’t know how.”
Patriot closed the distance between us and opened his arms wide, waiting to see if I could take that next step on my own.
My lungs dragged in a heavy breath and before I could think too hard about it, I rushed forward, straight into his embrace.
“There. Not so hard. Easy as breathing, sunshine. Just one step at a time.”
Maybe he was right.
“What have you found, Xenon?”
“Not much,” he complained. “Public records are few other than some arrests and a DUI. Debt. Normal shit but I couldn’t find any connection to family or the Scorpions. Most of the data I found is years old like someone scrubbed their information from the internet. This is intentional. Guys like Jones and Rattler have a long and sordid history. If I can’t find it, it’s been erased.”
“Fuck!” I shouted, kicking at one of the chai
rs in the room as it spun and crashed into the wall.
Grim leveled me with a look. “Talk to me, Patriot.”
“I don’t like this. There’s too many ways all this shit could go wrong.”
“Yeah, we established that shit already.”
“I want to hunt that fucker down. Jones is close. I can feel it.”
“No confrontation yet. We’ve been over the reasons why.”
“Yeah, I hear you, but I don’t fucking like it.”
Grim laughed, gripping my shoulder with one heavy fist. “You never learned patience in the Corps? Thought the one thing they taught was hurry up and wait.”
His humor wasn’t helping. “I’m hanging on by a thread.”
Grim gave me a shake. “Hunted recently?”
He knew about my trips into Vegas and didn’t care as long as I wasn’t stupid and didn’t get caught.
“No.”
“You talk to Bishop lately?”
“Nah. Didn’t feel the need,” I admitted.
“Feeling the need now, you stubborn fucker?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Xenon interrupted us. “I’ve found some photos of Rattler and Jones. Still digging for Resnikov. I’ll send them to all the phones. Make sure we all have an idea of who we’re looking out for. Never know when one of those assholes will show up.”
I opened my mouth to ask him if he was still watching and recording the feeds all the time and Xenon held up a hand.
“Yeah, brother. I’ve got eyes and ears where we need them.”
“Alright.” I swiped my hands down my face and decided I needed a stiff drink.
“Have a whiskey or whatever else you fuckin’ need, Patriot,” Grim advised, “but then you give Bishop a call. Find your center.”
“I will,” I promised, leaving him behind to head for the bar.
“HELLO,” BISHOP ANSWERED in his perfectly clipped way of speaking, answering my call on the second ring. “I will make an assumption, sir, that your beast is not content.”
Never failed to surprise me that Jordan Bishop’s intuition was always so fucking on point. He never missed a thing and he knew exactly why I was calling before I had a chance to say the words.
I was long overdue in checking in and since my nightmares had increased and my agitation was at an all-time high, I figured I might as well catch up with Bishop and get some advice. He understood that all the shit I saw and experienced overseas shaped the man I had become. I spent a hell of a long time trying to outrun my past and was struggling with the fact that I was still at war. It was just a different enemy now.
The past was hard as fuck to get over and if anyone could understand my position, I knew he did. Didn’t make it any easier to talk about, especially since Jordan Bishop was cold and emotionless. He didn’t have feelings or struggle with them. The guy was lethal, detached, and a killer by nature. The Marine Corps only fed his own beast and provided what he needed to hone his skills.
Bishop was a Captain and Force Recon. Deadly as they come and didn’t give two shits about that fact. There was something primal about his instincts. Combined with his brilliant mind, he was the most ruthless man I ever met.
We had a connection. An understanding that we each had monsters within that demanded our full cooperation. Fighting against them only fought against our true nature. There was a reason I was so successful as a Marine. The same could be said for Jordan Bishop. The Corps gave us the freedom to become the bastards we already were and the Royal Bastards gave us the protection we needed to thrive.
I was a Gunnery Sargeant when I discharged. Served ten years for my country and my only regrets had to do with all the brothers I lost overseas during Operation Enduring Freedom. The Global War on Terrorism was why I joined after the 9-11 attacks. My patriotism and loyalty were part of who I was and my need to take down the enemy thrummed in my veins with every breath I took.
Bishop’s observation was correct.
My beast wasn’t content.
“No, not fully.”
His approach was quick, intentional, and left no doubt that he saw through my bullshit. “You need to feed the beast, Patriot.”
“I do,” I admitted, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. I still attempted to control him in other ways like alcohol or weed or sex. Since I met Naomi that had changed and now the restlessness was back.
“What mediocre substitute are you using? We both know that will not work.”
Fuck. I wasn’t feeding my beast enough. He was right. I needed to take a step back and get my head in the right place. “Yeah, I hear you.”
“You will always be a Marine. You will always need to feed that beast. Your Reaper needs to feed. If you give him the wrong nourishment you will fail in your desire to keep control.”
I blew out a breath, ingesting his words of wisdom. “I haven’t been hunting much lately.”
“That is the source of your problem.”
“It is,” I agreed. “Thanks, Bishop.”
“Patriot.”
There was a click as he ended the call. I didn’t expect anything else. It wasn’t his way.
That was fine. I didn’t need anyone to hold my hand.
The solution was maintaining balance. I needed to find a way to feed my beast often enough that he was content. I used to be satisfied with the hunts I went on in Vegas. The city of sin provided plenty of prey. There was no shortage of rapists, murderers, traffickers, pedophiles, and assholes.
But I was still on edge. Either I needed to hunt more often or I needed to figure out what was tipping the scales in the wrong direction.
There was a knock on the door and I dropped the book I was reading on the nightstand next to the bed, sliding my feet to the floor. Shadow came by everyday around late morning and would spend the afternoon, share lunch, and then head off once Patriot returned. I smiled when I thought of the prospect. He was quiet and patient, never forcing conversation or anything else. In fact, I usually had to be the one to instigate it but he wasn’t unfriendly. Had more to do with the fact that his sorrow hung heavy over his head and the burden he carried over Stefanie’s death weighed him down.
I opened the door, flashing him a small smile. “Hey.”
“Mornin’, Naomi.” He lifted a tray. “Brought us both somethin’ special today.”
Intrigued, I leaned forward to see if I could get a whiff of what he was sharing but he turned to the side. “Nope. It’s a surprise. Made special by Snooki. She said she’d have my ass if you weren’t sittin’ down and had your eyes closed when I uncovered the tray.”
Snooki was something else. I liked her wild side. She wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything, especially herself. Confident and sexy, she had most of the single brothers eating out of her hand. On top of that she was a wonderful cook. From what I learned from Shadow she taught the club girls a lot of useful skills in and out of the kitchen.
I followed him into the room I shared with Patriot and left the door ajar as I took a seat at the table. Shadow stared me down until I closed my eyes tight. The first thing I noticed was the distinct scent of cinnamon and sugar and then tart citrus. My eyes popped open and I squealed with delight.
Fresh squeezed orange juice was sitting next to a chocolate mocha iced coffee but that wasn’t the best part. A homemade cinnamon roll oozed creamy icing and sat on a puddle of gooey cinnamon and warm dough. Fresh fruit was cut up in a crystal bowl that included strawberries, cantaloupe, red grapes, and honeydew. Sausage patties, scrambled eggs, and crispy slices of bacon were on a separate plate.
“Wow,” I whispered, “This is all my favorite breakfast food.”
“It’s pretty much all the breakfast food in existence,” he joked.
“That’s why I love it,” I teased back.
He smirked and reached for one of the extra plates beneath the cinnamon roll. We each piled food on our own and began eating, making sounds of approval and delight as we chewed.
He wasn’t the least bit embarras
sed to moan over the first bite of roll as he smacked his lips. “Fuck. This is amazing.”
“It is,” I agreed, savoring each delicious forkful until every crumb was gone. I even swiped my finger across the plate to catch the last drop of icing.
“Snooki is gonna be happy when I tell her how much you enjoyed that. Might fatten you up after all.”
Rolling my eyes, I gave him the finger. “Whatever. Patriot put you two up to that?”
Shadow shrugged but he couldn’t hide the guilt in his eyes.
“I know he’s worried about me but I eat. He needs to relax.”
Shadow let out a chuckle. “Have you met the Royal Bastards? These guys never relax.”
A giggle escaped and I startled, still surprised when I smiled or laughed. Didn’t happen often but this prospect sure seemed to be able to help me with that.
“It’s okay, you know.”
“What is?”
“To find a little happiness.”
Struck by his words, I blinked back sudden tears. “Maybe.”
He cleared his throat. “I should take my own advice, huh?”
“I think we both have reasons that make it hard to smile.”
“Yeah.”
Shadow stacked the dishes and then picked up the tray. “I’ll be back. Gonna drop this off and grab a coffee. Want anything else?”
I shook my head.
Once he was seated at the table again, I skipped the deck of cards that we used often and went for the tin that had double fifteen dominoes that were colored. Once all the pieces were on the table, we flipped them over then shuffled them around until they were mixed up enough.
“Draw your twelve.”
He began swiping dominoes in his direction and then stacked them on the sides, staring intently as he focused.
I was already starting my train. The double blank was in the center and I started lining mine up starting with the blank first, using six of the dominoes before I was stuck and couldn’t continue. I moved the draw pile aside as we weren’t using those yet. For the rest of mine, I lined them up, facing my direction so they were easy to see for my turn.