by J. M. Walker
“I know.” My dad muttered something to River.
River slid from the booth, swiping his hand out in front of him.
I sat, keeping my distance from my father when he grabbed my hand and pulled me to his side.
“Zillah, I’ll give you a moment with your dad and brother, but I know someone who is losing his fucking mind over not seeing you.” Greyson stood from his chair and headed to Catch who stood off to the side. They talked amongst themselves, a few of the other guys from Hell’s Harlem closing in around them.
“You did good, Zillah.” My dad cupped my hands. That small movement stopped them from shaking.
“I’m not like the rest of you but seeing …” I looked at Kian. “Seeing both of you, even though I knew you weren’t dead, I lost it.”
“Well, Ripper got your wrath. Hell hath no fury and all that jazz.” Kian shook his head. “I’m proud of you.”
“What about the pictures?” I asked them, needing to know who was taking photos of us.
“It was all Ripper.” My dad scrubbed a hand down his face. “He was obsessed with you. I didn’t know this. Hell, the bastard was a damn good actor too. A couple of the guys and him went out for drinks. He got shit-faced and they went back to his apartment. When he passed out, they searched the place after I demanded it. They probably thought I was paranoid too but thankfully they listened.” Dad cupped my cheek. “They went to the closet and found a shrine of you. It was sick. I wanted to kill him then but Kian …”
“It was my idea to use you as bait.” His brows furrowed. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay.” I blew out a slow breath. “But what about tonight? Or last night? I don’t even know what time it is right now. Who staged your deaths? Why was Greyson’s clubhouse shot up? Why was Sammy taken?”
“The guys Ripper thought he could trust were told about him in advance. They helped us stage our deaths. The rest was all on Ripper. But there were a few guys who had teamed up with him to take out Hell’s Harlem. They’ve since disappeared and we’re searching for them.” He glanced across the table. “We will get vengeance,” he called over to Greyson.
Grey nodded once.
“I promise I wouldn’t have brought you into this if I didn’t think you could handle it.” My dad squeezed my hands. “When I called you and told you to get out of there, Ripper had already stated his case and kicked my ass,” my dad continued. “I’m man enough to admit it, that fucker could hit.” Dad looked between both Kian and me. “I haven’t been the best father. I’m sorry for that. Your mom fucked me up. I`m man enough to admit that too. But I love you. Both of you. And, Zillah, just because you`re a female, doesn`t make you the lesser sex. I`m sorry if I led you to believe that. Hell, after tonight, I`d be scared to get on your bad side.”
I smiled softly, my cheeks burning. Guilt rested on my shoulders, but my family was safe. For now. Until the next bastard rolled in.
“I don’t know why Sammy was taken. I can only imagine it was because of who his father was.” My dad looked at Kian. “The men who took him, were killed.”
I nodded, not expecting any less. “Was it Ripper who took a picture of Tray and Catch too?”
“I can only assume so. I thought maybe it was to make you jealous, but it was before you and Tray. I don’t know what Ripper was thinking. I figured it was part of his surveillance to take them out.” My dad squeezed my shoulder. “But you are a good woman, Zillah.”
“You raised me well, Daddy. I don’t care what happened before me. I love Tray.” My heart beat for him. “I need to go see him.”
Dad nodded, cupping Kian’s nape. “This fucker is going to take over the roll as president faster than we thought. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
I kissed his cheek. “I’m just glad you’re both okay.”
“Me too, Zillah.” He sighed. “Me too.”
Sliding from the booth, I headed to the group of guys standing around Greyson and Catch.
“Zillah?”
I glanced back at my father.
“You have a car that’s waiting for you too,” he said, giving me a soft smile.
I nodded. That beast of a machine would be fixed up in no time, but first, I had a beast of a man I needed to take care of.
“You did good, Zillah,” someone called out.
“Thank you,” another said.
“It’s about fucking time someone took him out.”
With my head down, I pushed through the building crowd until I was standing in front of Greyson.
He glanced down at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Take me to him.” My voice cracked. “Please.”
(Tray)
I was losing my fucking mind.
Pacing back and forth, I took a drag of the smoke in my mouth. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. My bones were stiff, my body sore. The wound in my side was stitched up fine and fucking dandy. But my mood was not.
“Tray, you’re going to wear a hole in the ground,” Eve said, shoving some garbage into a black bag. “They’ll be here soon.”
I sat my ass on the stool by the bar and waited like a good little boy.
When Grey had called and told me that he had Zillah, Catch, and Sammy, I almost wept like a fucking baby. Too much shit had happened to us within the last year. And now, we’d lost more club members. Brothers. Butcher. A man I had looked up to since I became a biker. I realized then what I had to do.
“Grey’s going to kick your ass for smoking in here,” Eve chided, pulling me from my thoughts.
I only grunted. I didn’t give a shit what he did, but I had a feeling that he would let me off this once at least.
“They really need to hurry the fuck up,” I grumbled, butting out the smoke on the bottom of my Shit-Kicker.
Vehicles sounded outside.
My heart jumped.
Rushing as best I could to the front door, I shoved it open as Zillah slid out of the SUV. Our eyes met. Her clothes were covered in blood. Her hair was a mess. But she was alive. My girl was fucking alive.
I wanted to run to her and scoop her up into my arms, but I was frozen.
Greyson and Catch came toward me with Sammy. Once they reached me, Sammy threw his arms around my waist and Catch cupped my shoulder.
I returned Sammy’s hug, my chest tightening.
The rest of the crew rolled in on their bikes. The air was thick and heavy around us. We had fought, and we won. I didn’t know what had happened but I didn’t care. Catch, Zillah, and Sammy were back. They were home. They were safe.
“Let’s go inside, Sammy.” Catch ruffled the boy’s hair. “I think your brother wants to see you.”
Sammy ran inside.
“Go to her, brother. She needs you right now.” Catch pulled me in for a hug. “She really needs you.”
“Fuck, man. I thought I lost you. I thought I lost both of you,” I said, my voice thick. I hugged him back, unable to take my gaze off of Zillah.
“We’re safe. We’ll explain everything after.” Catch leaned back, cupping my nape. “Go to her.”
He walked by me and into the house. “All right, fuckers. Who’s going to get me a drink?”
I chuckled, the door shutting behind me. Taking a deep breath, I waited. For what I wasn’t sure.
Zillah wrung her hands together in front of her, looking down at her feet.
“Look at me,” I demanded, my voice rough.
Her gaze popped to mine, a flush of red hitting her cheeks.
I took a step toward her, at the same time she moved. Once we closed the distance between us, we crashed into each other.
“Tray,” she whimpered, shaking against me. Her hands grabbed at my hoodie, her fingers reaching beneath my shirt, and brushing over the bandage in my side. “I thought I lost you.”
“Never, baby,” I said into her hair, rubbing my face into the crook of her neck. Lifting her in my arms, I carried her to the nearest bench and sat with her straddling my lap. A sharp pain hit my side at the extra weight
my body was carrying but I didn’t give a shit. Getting shot wouldn’t stop me from holding my girl.
“God, I …” She trembled, clutching onto me like I was her lifeline. “I just … I need you. In ways I never even knew existed.”
“You have me. Always.” Running my fingers through her hair, I pulled her head back gently and placed a hard kiss on her mouth.
Her trembling seized, a soft sigh leaving her lips.
“Tell me what happened.” I pulled back. “And please tell me why the fuck you’re covered in blood.”
Her eyes welled, her throat working hard with each swallow. “Take me inside. I need a shower. And then I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”
FEELING TRAY’S HANDS on my trembling body gave me the strength to keep going. To not break down. To not lose myself. Although Ripper deserved everything he got, I could still feel him fighting for his life beneath me. His blood spraying from the wounds in his neck. The metallic taste coating my tongue.
“I got you, Beauty.” Tray kissed the top of my head, running the washcloth over my sensitive skin. The water at our feet turned red.
“Tell me whose blood I’m washing off of you.”
I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut. Letting out a slow breath, I cleared my throat. “Ripper.”
Tray’s hand paused in its path. “Go on.”
“He wanted to take my dad’s place as president of Mayhem’s Revenge. When Catch and I got to the clubhouse, we were swarmed and separated. My dad warned me that it would happen, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t any less scared.” I told him about the room I was thrown in, how I thought I had lost both my father and brother. How it was all a setup and how I was the one to kill Ripper.
“Holy shit.” Tray turned me in his arms. Pinching my chin, he forced me to look up at him. “Your dad made you do it because Ripper wouldn’t expect it. Am I right?”
“I assume so.” I shrugged. “Ripper wanted me for himself.” I shivered at the thought. “He had a shrine in his apartment of me. It was like some shit out of our horror movies.”
“Fuck me.” Tray brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “I wish I could have been there to help you but, clearly, you didn’t need it.”
“I reacted first.” Running my hands down his hard chest, I grazed the back of my knuckles over his abs. “I didn’t think I was strong enough to handle that but seeing my dad and Kian …” I swallowed past the bile that had risen to my throat. “I knew they weren’t dead, but that doesn’t mean a part of me didn’t think they were. They looked like it. They had to make it look real, so the guys beat them up and staged the whole thing. I don’t know a lot.” I shrugged again. “But I know I need to stay away. I just …”
Tray pulled me into his arms. “Whatever you need, Zillah. I’m here.”
“I don’t know what I need.” That was the truth. I had never killed someone before. “I should feel guilty. But I don’t. Am I … Am I a monster?”
“Fuck no.” Tray shut off the water and pulled a towel from the rack before wrapping me up in his arms. Lifting me, he cradled me like a child, holding me tight against him.
“What are you doing? You just had surgery.”
“I don’t give a shit. I could have no legs or arms and I would still fucking carry you.”
“Would that even be possible?” I asked, circling my arms around his neck.
He gave me a soft smile. “You know I would make it be possible.”
Carrying me into his room, he laid me on the bed, removed the towel from around me, and brought it up to my head.
My heart warmed at the way he took care of me. Drying my hair. Touching me with gentle caresses. Kissing me. Giving me everything I needed from him. I loved him. This man hovering above me, I loved everything about him.
Cupping his face, my thumb brushed over the graying scruff on his strong jaw. His dark eyes glanced down at me, probably wondering what I was doing but I didn’t know. I just needed him to touch me.
“Zillah,” he murmured, his voice deep and guttural.
“Hold me. That’s all I need right now.” As much as I wanted more, he’d just had surgery and I wasn’t feeling like myself. Would I ever feel like myself again?
“Of course.” He kissed my nose, throwing the towel on the floor.
I crawled beneath the covers, my body still shaking.
Tray wrapped me in his arms, bringing the comforter up and around us. “I love you, Beauty. I will do everything in my power to erase the nightmares going through your mind right now. These thoughts will eventually become nonexistent.”
I turned to him, cupping his face. “They will?”
He nodded, kissing my palm. “They will.”
We laid like that for what felt like forever. Lost in our own minds.
“Tray?” I said awhile later.
“Yeah, Beauty.” He ran a hand down my bare arm, the tiny hairs on my skin tingling along with it.
“I like that you take care of me. I … I don’t have a daddy complex or anything but this …” My cheeks burned. “I need it. From you.”
Tray pushed me onto my back and knelt between my legs. “I need it too. My father was a dick and I always promised myself that I would never be that way to my own kids. Or even my wife. He loved my mom but sometimes I wondered if loving someone that hard could be dangerous.”
“Maybe they had other issues that you didn’t know about,” I suggested, cupping his strong shoulders.
“Maybe.” Tray looked down the length of me, his body tightening under my touch.
I followed his gaze, his cock jumping under my scrutiny. I licked my lips.
“It’s been almost four days, Zillah.”
My eyes widened. “Four days?” Had I really lost that much time?
He nodded. “It’s amazing how fast time goes when you’re having fun.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Fun. Right.”
“I know we have both been through hell.” His hand trailed down my inner thigh, pushing my legs open in a rough move.
A small gasp escaped me.
“And I know I just lost a brother and we’re burying him tomorrow.”
“You are?” My heart sped up.
“We are.” Tray pulled me further under him. “And I know I just had surgery but fuck me, little girl, I need you right now.”
“Make love to me, old man.” As soon as the words left my mouth, he was inside me. I cried out, arching beneath him.
“Fuck,” he growled, sinking his teeth into my neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Y-you’re fine. God, you’re fine.” I ran my hands down his back, cupping his ass, and pulling him deeper. “Please, Tray. Shit.”
“You weren’t wet enough.” He shivered, pulling his hips back and pushing forward in a hard thrust.
I cried out, my body dripping with desire for the man currently inside me.
He groaned, grabbed my hands, and held them above my head. “Now you are.”
The pleasure consumed me. The connection we shared. All of it. Tray felt so good inside me. It was perfect. It was needed. “More,” I whined. “Please more.”
Tray sat back on his heels, holding me against him. “Ride me.”
Running my fingers through his hair, I tugged his head back, covered his mouth with mine at the same time, and sped up my hips.
In a matter of seconds, we were both coming undone, but we didn’t stop. I wanted him all night. I knew we needed to talk to Greyson and the rest of the guys. I knew we needed to fill Tray in on everything else that happened that I may have missed. But right now, I was enjoying my boyfriend, my love, my “old man” and using him to make me feel better just the same.
WITH ZILLAH’S HAND in mine, I stared down at the casket being lowered into the ground. Butcher was being buried beside his wife, Trixie. My chest hurt. My heart pounded behind the walls of my rib cage. My eyes burned. But no tears came. Maybe they would later on. Maybe they wouldn’t at all. Knowing Butcher wou
ldn’t want us crying for him, I almost laughed at the thought.
As if she knew what I was thinking, Zillah squeezed my hand.
“Butcher wasn’t just a brother. He was more than family. He was a part of me. Of us.” Greyson’s words surrounded us, but I couldn’t meet his gaze for fear that I would fall to my knees and break.
Greyson cleared his throat, continuing. “He wouldn’t want us wallowing. He would want us to throw a big motherfucking party and celebrate his life.” Grey chuckled. “Shit, man.” He coughed.
I looked up that time.
Eve held onto his arm, rubbing it gently with her other hand.
My chest tightened even more.
“It shouldn’t have come to this.” Catch shifted beside me.
I grabbed his hand.
He let out a shaky breath.
I looked around us. The cemetery was filled with bikers. Members of other Hell’s Harlem chapters from all over the country, stopped by to celebrate Butcher’s life. Sammy and Cyrus stood by Eve and Greyson, holding onto each other. Those two little boys lost both their parents. Trixie and Butcher fought for their club and died with honor. Both of them.
These boys would grow up to be stronger and tougher than they needed to be, and I felt sorry for anyone who got in the way of their wrath.
Mayhem’s Revenge stood around us as well, paying their own respects. As difficult as it was at first, knowing it was one of their members who killed Butcher, once everything was said and done, we needed to work together.
After the minister said a few words, everyone started putting flowers on the casket.
Eve gave Jaron a rose and helped him place it on top of everyone else’s. If only Trixie could see him now. Because of her, that baby boy was alive. Now over a year old, he would never remember what happened to him. Unlike the twins. Sammy and Cyrus would need us. All of us.
Once the service was over and Butcher was beside his wife where he belonged, we headed back to our bikes and vehicles.