Craving Absolution

by Nicole Jacquelyn

  I looked healthy. Not impeccable and done up, but actually healthy, with rosy cheeks that had filled out from three solid meals of Lily and Gram’s cooking every day, and clear eyes.

  I didn’t bother with makeup after that, or my own clothes for that matter. I went barefoot and lay around in Lily’s old housedresses from the sixties. Gram and I never left the property anyway, leaving Lily to pick up groceries and other odds and ends we needed at the local grocery store, so it wasn’t as if anyone saw me. Most of the time I just showered and threw my hair into a messy bun, anxious to get outside or up to Lily’s attic to explore.

  Lily’s house was a freaking treasure trove of vintage goods. I swear to God, the old broad never threw anything out, which was fantastic as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t sure if it was because Natasha hadn’t kept anything for more than a few years or because I’d lost most of my things when I’d left my old life, but I loved anything that had a history. There were old quilts, toys, clothes, and furniture in Lily’s attic, and I spent hours and hours going through her things while Gram and Lily ignored me as if I were out of my mind.

  I was in the attic, going through an old trunk filled with clothes from the eighties, when Cody called. The first words out of his mouth sounded frustrated.

  “Hey, Ladybug.”

  “Hey, handsome. What’s up?”

  “Not gonna be able to make it out this weekend.” He sighed. “Grease and I talked it over, baby. After two weeks with nobody bothering you . . . just not sure that I should be drawing attention to where you are.”

  “Shit.” I knew what he said made sense. We were in our own little bubble out there in the boonies, and if he came to see me, we took the risk of someone following him.

  “Yeah. My thoughts exactly.”

  “Well, are they figuring out how to fix shit? Because seriously, babe, I can’t stay here forever. I mean, it’s great, but I have a life. I can’t imagine the people at the club are too fired up to live there forever either.”

  “No shit. It’s like Wild Kingdom up here. The kids are bouncing off the walls, the women are snapping at their men and each other, and the single guys are getting pissed that they can’t have the club whores out. It’s a fucking mess.”

  “Well, are you guys almost done . . . doing whatever you’re doing?” I asked.

  “Yeah, baby. Had to postpone some shit. Brenna had the baby, so Dragon’s been up there for the past few days, plus the boys have been taking shifts at the hospital just to be safe. Leaves us with less men than we need to do anything about the threat.”

  “Fucking Brenna,” I mumbled, making him laugh.

  “Not a whole lot she could do about it, baby. The little dude had to come out,” he replied. I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Everything go okay there?” I asked reluctantly.

  “Yeah, went good as far as I know. They named him after me.”

  “No shit?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

  “No shit. Leo Cody White.”

  “Well . . . that’s pretty cool,” I grumbled.

  “Yeah, I was surprised, but Brenna was pretty firm on the name. She’ll be coming home today, I think.”

  “I miss you,” I blurted, done talking about Brenna and her perfect little family.

  “I miss you too. Don’t think it’ll be much longer,” he replied quietly. “I miss those ladybugs.”

  I giggled, then slapped my hand to my forehead in irritation. I was not a freaking giggler. “I miss your cock.”

  He sucked in a loud breath through his teeth. “So that’s the game we’re playing? Okay, I’m down. I miss those gorgeous tits that I can fit in my mouth.”

  “Not so sure you can do that anymore,” I answered. “I miss those beautiful long fingers of yours.”

  “Wait, back to your tits,” he said quickly. “What do you mean, I can’t put them in my mouth anymore?”

  “They’re bigger—” He groaned. “Lily and your gram are fattening me up like a pig for the state fair.”

  “Good, you needed to gain some weight,” he said.

  “What?” No, seriously, what?

  “Farrah, you’re always beautiful, but sometimes you get so fucking small that if you turned sideways you’d disappear.”

  “Ouch.” Really, ouch.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t get defensive. All I’m saying is that I’m glad you’re getting healthy, Ladybug. I worry, okay?” he said gently. “Now I wish I was there so I could show you all the places on your body I fucking love, skinny or fat or anywhere in between.”

  I couldn’t help but be a little hurt at his comments, but I knew he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I also knew that sometimes I got too small. I tried not to, but it was a struggle for me. The first time Gator had made comments about how perky and full my tits were, I felt so disgusting that I’d immediately started dieting to get rid of some of my curves. I’d only been fourteen and poor, so the diet had mostly consisted of not eating. It wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t right, but it had started a pattern of eating habits that I’d had a hard time shaking. If I was stressed, I didn’t eat. It wasn’t a conscious thing; I just forgot or told myself I’d do it later, and then before I knew it I’d lost five or ten pounds that I couldn’t afford to lose.

  I’d gone to therapy when Callie did in Sacramento, so I knew my triggers, but sometimes I let myself slide. If Cody had noticed, that meant I hadn’t been doing a very good job.

  “I’ll do better,” I told him nervously, hating the fact that he’d noticed one of the things that made me so far from perfect.

  “Baby, you’re doing fine, okay? I love you and I fucking love your body. I just want you to be healthy.”

  “How did we even get on this subject?” I asked.

  “I was talking about how I miss your tits.”

  “Ah, breasts,” I sang, a relieved smile stretching across my face.

  “Yeah, those. I can’t fucking wait to get my mouth on them. I think next time I see you, I’m gonna fuck you bare and then come all over those beautiful pink nipples . . .”

  We went back and forth, describing the parts of each other’s bodies we missed the most, and by the time we were done, both of us were panting with frustration. We made plans and detailed exactly what we’d do first. It was one of the hottest conversations of my life.

  We had no idea that it would be close to three months before I’d see him again.

  Chapter 26

  Casper

  “Time to head out,” Grease called from the doorway as I lay on my bed talking to Farrah.

  Three months had passed since I’d dropped Farrah and Gram off at my aunt Lily’s, and I was so fucking sick of waiting. Slider had brought in a couple of camping trailers so we could spread the families out a little, but it didn’t help much. There were too many people in too little space, not to mention that people had lives outside the club that they’d had to completely put on hold. It was a mess.

  We’d been making plans, going over shit with a fine-tooth comb, and for the first time I was right in the middle of shit. I’d gone up to Portland a few times, trying to get a feel for things on the street, but it hadn’t done us much good.

  I’d always been a huge history buff, not just of American history, but also world history. And one thing that all really successful leaders had in common was their ability to inspire loyalty in their followers. They instinctively knew what would endear them to the masses and they used it. A well-known cartel leader in South America funded hospitals and jobs, and Hitler exploited the economic weakness of Germany after WWI; the tactic was as common as the lies politicians in the US spouted during elections.

  The McCafferty brothers in Portland had found their loyalty with meth distribution, a drug epidemic that was becoming common all over the US. They’d created perfect little minions, dependent on them for their supply and loyal to the death. It was irritating as fuck, but it did give us a bit of an edge. Our men weren’t junkies, for the mo
st part. There were a few who used on a recreational level, but the minute they got sloppy Slider took care of it, one way or another.

  However, it did mean that no one was talking, not the men on the streets or the drunk shits in the bars. We hadn’t heard any more news in all the months we’d been trying to ferret out information, which left us standing around holding our dicks while waiting for the other shoe to drop. They’d been quiet, too fucking quiet, which meant either the information I’d gathered had been false, or they had someone watching us.

  The problem was that I didn’t make shitty mistakes. I’d been studying the body language of the people around me since I was seven years old, at first in a desperate need to fit in, and later to become invisible. That meant that they had someone—or a network of people—who knew that we’d battened down the hatches, and they were just waiting for us to let our guard down.

  I guessed that Slider was finally ready to make the first move, and hopefully the last.

  “I gotta go, Ladybug,” I told Farrah as I sat up in bed. “I love you. I’ll call you soon.”

  “Wait, what’s happening?” she asked, sounding scared that I’d cut her off midsentence.

  “Nothing, baby. Grease needs help with something. I’ll call you later.”

  She was quiet, then with a small sigh, she replied, “Okay. Love you too.”

  I hung up without saying anything else, my mind already focused on the task ahead. As we walked toward church, Grease updated me on what he knew.

  “I think we’re going in quiet. Chaps my ass, but I’m pretty sure we’re leaving our bikes down here. We’re too fuckin’ close to Portland.” He stopped mumbling as we walked into the small room, closing the door behind us.

  As soon as my ass hit the chair that had become way too fucking familiar, Poet started to speak.

  “Tonight’s the night, boys.” He looked around the table, meeting each man’s eyes before continuing. “Be ready to leave at seven. Leaving the bikes home for this one—”

  The guys grumbled until Slider raised his hand in warning, instantly shutting them up.

  Poet paused and then continued. “We’ve got close to fifty women and children we’re leaving behind with a skeleton crew to guard them. Any of you want to paint a giant fucking bull’s-eye on my club by riding ten bikes up to Portland?” He looked around the room and nodded once as the words sank in.

  “We’re hitting them hard tonight, taking out as many as we can on their property in Southeast. Used to be an old drive-in, now it’s a series of warehouses. Top of one a those warehouses is their living space,” he said. “Not sure if they’ve got women there, but we’re gonna assume they do. Not usually the way we do business, rubs all of us the wrong way. But they wrote the rules to this fuckin’ war, and fuck if I’m gonna worry about their women when they were fuckin’ targeting ours.”

  I took a deep breath and kept my eyes on Poet. I knew about the property; I’d been the one to find it and check it out, but it made my stomach turn that I hadn’t been able to figure out if they’d kept women there. It was the one thing that worried me about the entire situation.

  In a perfect world, the women would cower or hide and wouldn’t be a problem. We didn’t live in a perfect world. If there was anything I’d learned after living in the clubhouse with old ladies for the past three months, it was that most of them were as hard as their men. They had to be to survive. If the McCafferty women were anything like ours, they’d be in the middle of the fucking fight, and fuck me, but I didn’t want to shoot a goddamn woman.

  “Leave your cuts in your rooms and head into the armory to suit up. Not leaving anyone behind if shit goes south, but we sure as hell don’t wanna leave any evidence either. Patches and leather tend to get left behind fighting hand-to-hand, and if it gets to that, we ain’t searching for your shit before we leave,” Slider informed us.

  “Smokey and Doc,” he went on, “you’re backup. You’ll stay close but out of things in case we need you. You’re in the Jeep Cherokee in bay two. Grease and Poet, you’re in the piece of shit Toyota Brenna used to drive. Grab Samson, Tweak, and Gump. Let them know we’re going, but don’t fill them in until we get there. Dragon and Casper, you’re with me. Pack up the van parked out back and let Ramon and Goliath know they’re riding up with us. Same goes for information. Confiscate all phones.”

  He looked around the room, his face emotionless. “Only the men in this room have open communication. You take those phones. You find a phone on any man—shoot him. We’re flyin’ fuckin’ blind here, still don’t know who’s feeding these fuckers information. I don’t care if the man was calling his mother. He has a phone, he’s dead.”

  I swallowed hard and stood from the table as the men exited the room. I only had a couple of hours to prepare before we left, and I needed to get in the right headspace. It wasn’t the first time I’d been part of a fight, but the entire dynamic was different from anything I’d ever experienced. It felt as if we weren’t sure who was loyal and who wasn’t. Add on to that the women we might have to deal with, and I was sweating.

  Fuck.

  “Casper,” Slider called quietly.

  “Yeah?”

  Our relationship was cool, and he’d never invited Farrah back or made any mention of the way he’d fucked her over. I couldn’t stand him.

  “Sit,” he ordered calmly and I immediately dropped back down. It didn’t matter if I respected him as a man; I sure as hell respected his strength.

  “Before we head out and I’m counting on you to have my back, I wanted to get a few things straight with you,” he said. “Your loyalty’s not in question, and the minute this shit is over, we’ll be voting you in.”

  I let that sink in. It was the culmination of everything I’d been working for, but with one thought of Farrah, I no longer wanted it. So I said nothing.

  “I know you’re still hot about the shit that went down with my daughter.”

  My jaw clenched against the words bubbling in my throat. Fuck him for all of a sudden remembering he even had a daughter.

  “I want to get one thing clear with you. I don’t give a fuck about how you feel about me. You hate me? Fuck you. I’m twice your age and got more experience in this life than you’ll ever have.” His eyes never left mine. “I fucked up with Farrah and I knew it right away. I’ve known it since I stopped fucking searching for her twenty years ago. But three months ago when I made her leave with your grandmother, I knew what the fuck I was doing.”

  My heart started thumping in my chest, my hands in tight fists beneath the table.

  “You’re pissed I fuckin’ kicked her out? You think she don’t mean shit to me? Good.” He gave a slow nod. “Everyone else got that same feeling. You get what I’m sayin’ to you?”

  What?

  “She’s safer where she’s at than she’d be here. That girl’s my fuckin’ weakness. Anyone who knew me then, anyone that’s seen me in the last coupla years knows that. I know Vera can take care of herself—don’t have to worry about her much—she’s got bigger balls than most a my boys. Farrah’s different. Fuckin’ softer. Too soft for this shit.” He stood from the table. “She can fuckin’ hate me. Long as she’s breathing, long as she’s safe, I don’t give a fuck how she feels about me.”

  Slider walked toward the door and spoke quietly to my back as he reached it. “In all the time you been here, you ever known me to yell, boy?”

  He left the room while I sat dumbfounded, staring at the scarred wooden table in front of me.

  Holy fuck. The man had played us. He’d fucking played everyone.

  Chapter 27

  Farrah

  I didn’t move from the floor of the attic for a long time after Cody hung up on me. Something wasn’t right; there was just a little something off, and his “I love you” was a little too adamant. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I instinctively knew that after months of waiting, it was all coming to a head. And that terrified me.

  For the first
time in months, I stood and walked downstairs to my room, intent on finding the perfect outfit. It was the only thing I could think of as I started to feel panicky, my emotions all over the place. I needed my things. I needed the comfort of preparing my hair and face, as if perfection on the outside would create calm on the inside.

  The closet in my room had filled up as I found more and more clothes that Lily had stored for decades. She was shorter than me, and I think she’d had bigger boobs when she was young, but most of the clothes she gave me fit pretty well. I hadn’t been wearing them, though, and I knew today wasn’t the day to start. I needed my own clothes.

  I pulled out a 1950s thin-strapped dress that flowed to my knees in little pleats, and brought it with me into the bathroom. It was a bit wrinkled from being stuffed behind Lily’s old clothes in the closet, which made me a little twitchy, but I hoped the steam from my shower would take care of the issue. I tried to clear my mind as the shower poured over me, but I didn’t succeed, and my hands were shaky as I applied thick black eyeliner above my lashes, forcing me to wipe it off and reapply it three times before I got it right.

  To say that I was a mess by the time I pulled my dress on would be an understatement. I was on the verge of tears, a situation that was so far from common it made me even more upset, and as I tried and failed to pull up the zipper at my side, I let out a frustrated screech.

  What the fuck was going on with me? The fucking zipper wouldn’t move more than an inch up my side, no matter how much I sucked in my belly. Beneath my armpit the dress gaped a good three inches, assuring me that it wasn’t going to close without cutting off my boobs.

  I stormed out toward my room, yelling at Gram that I was fine as she stood at the end of the hallway looking at me in confusion. Goddamn son of a bitch. The dress was too small. Okay, so I’d try another, even if that meant that I’d have to redo my makeup to match something new.

  The next dress I tried didn’t have a zipper, but wouldn’t pull down over my boobs or up over my hips. The one after that had buttons that wouldn’t close. I finally decided on a small halter that was stretchy enough to fit over the girls, but the high-waist shorts that went with it wouldn’t fucking button.