My chest tightens and everything tenses as I fight to hear anything coming.
I can’t take any more. I’m ready to break.
I hear shoes crunching over the dirty floor outside the door. One foot down, second foot down—the pace is familiar.
Felix Delatorre is the devil in disguise.
Tears automatically form behind my eyelids. The anxiety builds to bursting. My heart feels like it may jump out of my chest. My head roars with the rushing of my crazed thoughts. To spend days in a dark, dank closet, only to be removed to eat or be tortured has worn me down.
I hear the doorknob being turned. The steps come closer. The sound of a second doorknob turning, and then … blinding light hits my pupils, and the smell of his overly strong cologne burn my nostrils.
I raise my arm to shield my eyes. Then I peek out from behind my forearm to come face-to-face with Felix Delatorre, El Diablo, the devil himself in the flesh.
“The time is here, my dearest,” he says as a wicked smile creeps across his face. “You want the pain to stop?” He traces the blade of a knife across my raised arm, and my skin parts, each movement, each drag separating my flesh.
My blood drips to the ground beneath me as I sit curled into myself, knees to chest, trembling as the fear takes hold. Adrenaline overrides my system, but the pain is nothing to the anxiety rising.
An evil cackle comes from the man’s mouth. He squats, eye level with me. “Beautiful Rachel. I wonder if her eyes will grow as wide as yours when I take my knife to her pussy? I wonder what dear Ray Mitchell will think of his treasured cousin when I make sure he knows you broke. You failed your family. I bet he turns his back and considers you dead like your father and mother.” His spit hits my forehead as he speaks. The odor of onions on his breath has me ready to vomit the meager contents of my stomach.
“Or what about Zack?” He twirls the tip of the knife just above my elbow, digging it in deeper and deeper at every turn. “Cocky man who thinks he owns every ass in the city.” He removes the blade as he smirks knowingly at me. “He doesn’t own your ass, does he?”
I lurch as the dry heaves hit me. This is my family. We aren’t like he’s insinuating.
He flicks his tongue out like the snake he is, making an awful slurping sound. I flinch when he leans in to lick the tip of my nose up to the bridge of my eyes. Then pain radiates through my body from the memories of Delatorre’s invasion of every orifice of my body except my nose and ears. If his penis was smaller, there is no doubt in my mind those would have been torn apart as well. It’s an agony I experience in both my mind and my body.
Sick bastard.
“I own that ass,” he whispers with a hunger in his tone that has my insides tight in fear. Then he stands, and I feel like I’m crumbling into a million pieces.
Closing my eyes, I fight back tears.
Please don’t let him take me again, I pray.
I feel the cold metal of the blade tap my nose as blood drips from the knife and onto my face.
“We must let you heal, pet. Show me you’ll be obedient, and I’ll make sure your family stays untouched. I have plans for you. Soon. Soon you will see what I need you for. Soon you will repay your debt, and then your family will be free of me. It’s up to you, Amy. Fall apart now, and I will destroy everything Ray and Zack have built for themselves.”
At his threat, I swallow back my emotions. The anxiety inside is at a crippling point, but I can’t let it win. Ray and Zack are the only people who have ever welcomed me with open arms. I must protect them. Everyone else leaves me. No one ever stays. They let me stay. I can’t let them down.
With two steps back, Felix Delatorre gives me space before he slams the door in my face. I hear the distinct click of the lock before I listen until his steps are so far gone I can’t distinguish them anymore.
He’s gone. For once, I find solace in being alone. For once, I find comfort in being left behind.
Breathe deep, I remind myself as I fight back the crushing weight on my chest. It’s not physical weight that is holding me down. Internally, my mind is shutting my body down. I feel it.
My skin prickles at even the feel of the air surrounding me. The room spins as my eyes widen the more my mind amps up to the world around me. I feel like a racehorse at the gate with my erratic heartbeat as adrenaline kicks in. The gates jerk open, and I rush to the bed, falling face first onto the mattress, where I inhale the scent of fabric softener. On an exhale, I feel wetness on the pillow from my tears.
He doesn’t have me. Felix Delatorre is dead. I’m in Frisco’s house. The Hellions surround me. They saved me. They haven’t left me.
At the reminder, I curl my knees into my chest before I let the blackness engulf me. I’m a ball of nerves. The past and the present all rolled into one mess. From then to now, I still don’t know what the future holds.
My eyes remain tight as I drift off into a tormented sleep.
While my mind fights back the past, my heart fights back having any hope for the future. After all, everyone always leaves me.
Three days. Seventy-two hours.
I have been a dad for less than a week, and already I feel a change in me. My every thought has become about Shannon. My mind has gone in circles every waking hour since meeting her. In that time, we have been tucked away in the safe house, where I take it slow, not wanting to push her.
Is this what a father goes through during pregnancy? I’m a dad. I am responsible for another person, one who hasn’t been a part of the Hellions.
In the time since our arrival in Florida, I have shut off communication. The club is a back burner to my new reality. Roundman and Danza, both being father’s, along with knowing my history, are giving me space.
Amy. My mind goes to the curvy woman in my house who I haven’t been in touch with. She’s called. I just haven’t answered. I should, but what do I say? Is she ready for what needs to happen?
My place isn’t big. I need to move her to my bed. Shannon can take her room. It’s time things change with Amy and I, anyway. For too long now we have danced around what has obviously been building between us.
Shannon is asleep right now, so this is the time I can handle my present without trying to explain to my past, or that I have a woman in my house. How will Shannon feel about that? Will she be upset that I replaced her mother? That isn’t exactly what happened, but will my daughter understand?
I look down at my phone. I should call. I should give Amy a heads up. Yet, as I stare at the screen, I don’t dial her number.
I miss her in a way that almost feels dangerous. The last time I allowed myself to care for a woman this deeply, it ended in disaster. I broke Tilly. I won’t survive if I break Amy, too.
Rather than make the call and get a feel for what’s going on with the woman I have come to care for, I just sit down and think, staring at the phone. After a long while, I still can’t bring myself to dial her number. Instead, I wait for Shannon to wake up.
When she does, I fight back the pain in my chest as she blinks, not once, not twice, but four times before she seems to become aware that she is indeed awake. Tilly used to do that.
Jayne, I remind myself. She wasn’t Tilly. She wasn’t Matilda. She was always Jayne. Shannon only knows her as Jayne.
God, what a mess! I can’t believe the lengths Tilly—Jayne—went to in order to hurt my club, yet I am supposed to believe she loved me?
The anger fills me once again. Everything I pushed down years ago when I walked away is resurfacing.
“Gonna make a call,” I say softly to Shannon, to which I get a nod. “Made some coffee. Your mom used to like hers with three sugars and more cream than coffee, it seemed. All that is on the counter and in the fridge if you need it.”
She gives me a small smile. “Mom didn’t let me have coffee. I’ll just have some water. When I was little, she didn’t want me having sugar or caffeine, so I’ve always been a water, milk, and juice kind of girl.”
Of course T
illy wouldn’t let her have coffee. She’s young, and Tilly wanted to be a good mom. She used to beg me to get married, have babies, and run off together. All she ever wanted was to be a mom. I should have picked up on that the last few days I spent with my daughter. Not once has Shannon drank anything other than water or milk.
I want to beat my own ass. I want to shake some sense into me. I need to pay attention. Shannon needs me to pay attention. She’s my daughter, flesh and blood. I need to know her. Does this come in time, or is there some instinct I’m missing?
Instinct.
My instincts scream at me to get on my Harley and ride hard, fast, and free.
“Gonna make a call. Then I think we should ride,” I say, giving in to my own stir-crazy needs.
Shannon nods. “I think I would like that, Frisco.”
With those words, I drop my head and walk toward the door, making my way to the porch. While she wakes up and dresses, I will make sure it’s safe for us to go out.
“Frisco,” Roundman answers on the second ring.
“Brother, thinkin’ about a ride.”
“Figured you would,” he replies lightheartedly. “Cruise A1A. Tripp and Rex aren’t far from ya on a load south. You leave in ’bout an hour, and they’ll be on your six with about a twenty-minute window of space between ya.”
“Thanks, brother.” I look out at the palm trees lining the drive to our hideaway.
“Be safe. You can head north anytime you’re ready. Coast is clear, brother.” That’s the assurance I need that Fury is done. I knew the club was handling the takedown while I was getting my daughter secured, but to hear it from Roundman, I know I can relax a little. “Coast is motherfuckin’ clear,” he repeats, somehow knowing it’s what I need.
With the games those Fury fuckers played under the control of Vic, there is no way we could leave a solitary one behind without concern for later retaliation. I will see the fuckers in Hell. Until then, my brothers and me will sleep fucking fine.
“All right, I’ll make arrangements …” I pause.
“Got something else on your mind, Frisco?” Roundman asks, reading me like a book.
“Arrangements?” I give him my one-word reply that is also a question.
“Got her en route here. You sort your shit with the girl, and we handle it how you want, brother.”
I blow out a breath of relief. The Hellions, my family, always taking my back. They didn’t just ash out Tilly; they brought her home. They made arrangements for me to give my daughter a chance to bury her mother.
No matter the past, Tilly was the mother of my child, and I want Shannon to have a proper good-bye for her mom if she so desires.
Shannon’s family—what she’s known—has been taken from her. Fury MC is no more. After everything Paul ‘Vic’ Watson put us through, there is no way any single one of them is still breathing. Despite that, will Shannon be able to see for herself how good the Hellions are? Will she understand they can be her safe place? Or will she always remember what we cost her?
“Roundman …” I start, unable to continue because something twists inside me and my chest tightens. Fear of the unknown, disappointment that I left Amy, and maybe a mixture of the two build into this intense guilt until I can only hang my head as I wonder if Amy is okay, which is why I’m unable to ask.
“She’s hangin’ in there, Frisco. Amy’s still comin’ to work and goin’ home like every other day. Can’t say she hasn’t had an episode. Can’t say she has. Danza had Mary Alice and Sass checking on her.”
“Thanks.”
“Take the time you need with your daughter. We’ll hold shit down here for ya,” he says before we both click off our phones.
I know the club will look after Amy. After all, she’s made her own place in the fold, even without me. I should explain Amy’s situation to Shannon. I should call Amy and explain my situation to her.
There is another woman in my life—my daughter. How will Amy take it?
The more I think about it, the more I know I need to reach out. But I don’t. I don’t know why, but I don’t. I can’t. It’s all too much.
Don’t … Just Don’t
With stops, it takes fourteen hours to cross over the state line. After the cruise up A1A, along the Florida coast, I learned two things. First, Shannon hasn’t spent as much time on the back of a bike as I originally thought. Second, I haven’t had long rides with anyone in my bitch seat in a long damn time. This made for the ride home to be one where I hit the back roads rather than the interstate, and I allowed multiple stops so Shannon wouldn’t get home with her legs turned into jelly.
South Carolina, we cruised through, passing the sign for Folly Beach. Shannon gave a tug to my cut, and I couldn’t help wondering if her mom ever told her about our weekend trips there.
Anytime we left Haywood’s Landing, just the two of us, Tilly relaxed. I saw a different woman. There wasn’t a crazy war inside her to pull me from my club. We were simply two people in love.
It was all a charade, I have to remind myself.
“Frisco?” Shannon asks as I park at the visitor center and shut off the bike.
“Not much longer,” I reply before she says anything more.
I need to breathe. I need space.
I look toward the restrooms then back at my daughter. Her eyes meet mine, and there is a deep desperation in her pupils, a longing to connect.
The pressure is too much.
“Take a leak. You got five minutes. You don’t come out, I’ll come in,” I order roughly.
She blinks in shock.
I haven’t been sharp with her. However, being so close to home and knowing everything is about to change, I can’t help the tension radiating off me.
“I don’t mean to scare you. Just ready to get home, okay?” I get as close to an apology as I can.
She simply nods.
Taking off at a fast clip, I leave her standing by the bike and head into the men’s room.
She doesn’t know it, but we have a tail. My Hellions’ brothers are parked on the other side of the U-shaped parking lot that surrounds the building with the South Carolina state flag proudly flapping in the wind. The white crescent against the indigo background above the palmetto tree symbolizes the beauty and history of this state.
Hitting the sink first, I quickly splash cold water on my face as the memory assaults me. Having Tripp and Rex here at my back, I can finally take a moment for myself.
“You know, their flag dates back to the revolutionary war,” Tilly proudly explains while we tuck our helmets away to head into the restrooms.
“You know South Carolina has no helmet required over the age of twenty-one? So, while I find the history lesson not necessary, it is necessary for you to decide if you are gonna stow your lid when we get done takin’ a leak, or you’re gonna wear it. Don’t care either way. Doesn’t make you less of a woman to protect all your smarts there, teach,” I joke.
She playfully smacks my arm. “The crescent came from their uniforms,” she continues, not missing a beat.
I drape my arm comfortably around her shoulders. “Sexy as fuck when you wanna give me a history lesson. Later, I’ll give you a lesson in Sex Ed, baby.”
With a pinch to my ass, she glides away toward the women’s side.
I look in the mirror at the reflection staring back at me, the very mirror I looked into all those years ago after splashing cold water on my face, trying to get my hard-on to go down.
How am I going to do this? Does Shannon share the same love of history her mom did? Were they able to travel?
The thoughts of Fury MC riding off with my daughter cuts deep, and I shake off my questions. What’s done is done, and the road before us is a path of our own making.
At the exit, I look at my bike and find Shannon’s not there. For a moment, fear hits me. Is she gone? Did she take off?
With a slight nod from Rex, I confirm she’s still in the restroom.
Time ticks by. The anxie
ty is getting to be too much. I need to get her to my place. Like a caveman, I need to be in my territory.
Fatherhood, the hardest job I never had until days ago.
I need a drink, a cigarette, a night with a hooker, and the chance to blow some shit up. The drink to calm my mind, the cigarette to let me think, a hooker to pretend this shit isn’t real, and the chance to blow something up for all the fucking time I lost.
“Shannon!” I bellow. “Got two, darlin’, then I’m coming in.”
“Don’t you dare!” she squeaks back.
“How do I know some man ain’t in there trying to feel you up?”
“What are you gonna do if there is?” she goads in what I think may be her attempt to joke with me. Only, I can’t take that chance.
Sliding the knife from my pocket where it stays clipped, I flip the blade open and march into the restroom.
Black hair swings around as her dark eyes meet mine. The humor is quickly gone as she zeroes in on the weapon without the slightest tremor.
“Yeah, baby girl, you should know your old man knows how to use a blade. Don’t poke the bear.” I smile as I flip the blade closed after confirming she is alone.
“Lesson learned.” She nods. “The old man doesn’t like the idea of me being with men. Got it.”
Laughing, I tell her, “I’ll say that we’re making progress.”
“We’re definitely doing something, Frisco.” There is sadness in her tone as she finishes. “I just don’t know what.”
“I’m not trying to scare you, Shannon. It’s been a long ride. I just want to make sure we both get home and have a chance to get to know each other.”
“I get that. I just don’t know what any of that will mean,” she replies.
Well, that makes two of us.
“Frisco,” she says, her tone somber. It’s like a kick in the teeth. “Did you and my mom joke? Were you overprotective of her, too?”
“Don’t.” I reach out and take her by the hand. “Just don’t, Shannon. The past I had with your mother is something I don’t think either of us is ready for.”
Final Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 9) Page 3