by Jordan Marie
“Nic, sweetheart. We need to talk about the funeral,” Carrie says, and I curl tighter in the ball I’ve made of myself on the bed. I clutch my stomach. My child shouldn’t hear the word funeral. Little Dragon shouldn’t know he will be denied his father’s touch, his father’s love. It’s wrong!
Oh God, please let me wake up from this nightmare.
“Nic…”
“Get out. God, just get out!”
“Nic, we can’t keep putting it off. I know you’re hurting but…,” she says, walking to the foot of my bed. Seeing her doesn’t help at all. What does she know about anything? She still has her man. Her child will still get to know her Dad.
“Get the fuck out of my room!”
Carrie flinches like I hit her, I can’t help it—I do want to hit her. I want to hit everyone. I want to claw them until I draw blood. I want to scream and hit them over and over until this hurt and rage inside of me disappears. I feel poisoned by it. My body feels tainted, dark and full of bitterness. So much bitterness…I think I’m drowning.
“Nic…”
“Just go. Just go. Oh God. Just go…”
I keep repeating just go; I don’t know how many times or for how long. I don’t even realize that I’m crying. Can one person cry nonstop for days on end and not die?
“Leave us alone for a little bit, Red.”
I hear Bull’s voice, but I don’t bother opening my eyes. I want to go to sleep and dream of Dragon.
A moment later, I feel the bed dip with weight, and then I feel arms pulling me up. Bull adjusts me so I’m leaning my head on his chest and he brushes his fingers through my hair. I want to pretend he is Dragon, but I can’t. The touch is wrong, the feelings are wrong, the scent is wrong.
“You surprise me Little Mama, I thought you were made of stronger stuff.”
“I miss him…”
“I know, I do too. We all do.”
“It’s not the same,” I defend, because they have no idea.
“I imagine it’s not,” he whispers and his voice breaks on the word not. I know it pains him to talk, and really, I think this is the longest conversation I’ve heard from him since the accident.
“I don’t think I can do this, Bull. They want me to bury him. I can’t.”
He holds me a little closer, his finger still combing through my hair and he doesn’t respond for a little bit. The room is quiet except for my crying. His heart is beating steady against my ear. Its beat is so strong and again, it reminds me of what has been taken away.
“You will do what you have to do.”
“No…I just…”
It’s then I feel him putting something over my arms. It’s heavy and warm and it smells like… my man. God, Dragon’s cut. The cut he always wore—except the one day I asked him not too. The one day that…
I cry harder. I can’t stop the sobs that break loose. I don’t know how long it goes on. I just know that Bull holds me through all of it, and I’m glad. I don’t want to be alone. Eventually, I stop and just an odd shudder and hiccup comes through. I’ve soaked Bull’s shirt. He doesn’t complain.
“You have to pull yourself together Little Mama, if for no other reason than that baby you are carrying.”
My hand rubs my stomach, and I try to concentrate on his words.
“That baby needs a strong woman to see his way in this world. He needs someone to tell him about his Daddy and to teach him how to stand on his own two feet and become a man his Dad would have been proud of.”
“It’s not fair.”
“It’s life, Nic. It’s just life. That’s why you hold on to the good days a little harder. To make it through the bad ones.”
“I don’t think I held onto them enough.”
“Do you remember them?”
“I’ll never forget them.”
“There you go. Make sure your boy has those memories to hold on too.”
“You’ll stay with me?” I ask, suddenly panicked at the thought of being alone.
“As long as you need me to,” he answers, and I nod.
“I don’t want a big fu…funeral. It should be quiet… here at the compound. maybe,” I answer, choking on the word funeral.
“If that’s what you want. We still will have a large convoy of bikers from all our chapters surrounding our brother to the cemetery. Then come back here for drinks and memories. We usually burn the cut to send up so our fallen has a safe journey, but I figure this should be kept for the baby.”
I nod. “Can you set that up without me? I just…I can’t, Bull. I’ll try and be strong and make Dragon proud, but I just can’t right now.”
Bull kisses the top of my head and gets up, propping pillows under me.
“You got it, Little Mama. I’ll organize everything. You just rest up.”
I let him leave without responding. I’m just too tired.
22
Michael
I watch as Donald falls to the ground. It didn’t take much, two punches. Donald always was a weakling. He is however, easily managed, and that makes him useful.
“Mr. Kavanagh, I’m sorry. I do know how we can get Melinda back however.”
I watch as he wipes the blood from his lip.
“Do tell me Donald, what brilliance has your mind come up with. I’m so intrigued. I’m sure it is something fantastic, since you can’t even keep one prisoner in our grasp. A prisoner whom, I might add, could not even walk.”
“The bastard’s funeral. Word at the club they own is there will be a closed funeral, but the gates to the compound will be open to let all the riders out to follow the procession. They plan on riding their bikes to the cemetery. We could make our move then.”
I listen to him and think about it. As plans go it is lacking, but the gates being open…with enough firepower I could take at least one of the bitches who owe me and demand the other in trade. Besides, I think playing with Miss Nicole for a while might be fun. She’s got a lot more fire than I remembered. Women with fire are the best ones to break. I would have to cut that guttersnipe out of her first, still…that could be fun. The thought of having Nicole chained on my bed with her ass up in the air…just the image makes my dick jerk in reaction.
“We’ll need more men. See if you can manage to get your ass up and do that much. When is this funeral?”
“In two days,” Donald says, standing back up still dazed. I take satisfaction in that.
“Then get busy.”
“Yes, sir,” he states, stumbling his way out of my hotel room.
“And Donald?” I ask, just as he opens the door. By this time, I’m sitting on the sofa, staring at the television I don’t have on. I don’t watch television. I just prefer the view to that of the imbecile, Donald’s, face.
“Yes, Mr. Kavanagh?”
“Do not fail me again. You won’t get another chance. Do I make myself clear?”
“Ye–...yes, sir.”
“Very well.”
The door clicks as he leaves. And I lay my head back, taking a sip of the scotch in my hand. This entire trip has been one failure after another. With the exception of Dragon West’s death. That one turned out rather well. If only I had taken out the beautiful bitch Nicole with him. Still, this way I can make her suffer in other—more enjoyable ways. So, perhaps all is not lost. She’s not exactly my taste, but she does have fire in her, and I do so love to watch that crumble in a woman.
I look around the small hotel room. It’s a two room ‘suite’, and using that word to describe it is laughable. This damn town has so little to offer. The air is starting to stagnate around me. This little safari into the Appalachian Mountains can’t end soon enough for me. How people live like this is beyond me. I pick up the phone on the table beside me.
“Front Desk,” The grainy voice comes through after I dial zero.
“I need maid service, please.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll send them up right away.”
“Thank you.”
I hang up wond
ering what sort of specimen I will get today. Yesterday, she was nothing to look at. Still, I prefer watching a woman clean up after me more than anything else I could be doing. It takes around ten minutes and finally there’s a knock at the door.
I walk slowly. I have nothing but time and I can’t really travel freely around town. I’m sure the Savage MC knows by now who to blame for the untimely death of two of their own. Especially since one of them is their…oh wait, was their President.
I open the door to find a rather haggard, beat up brunette in wrinkled jeans and a faded yellow t-shirt. Not my taste on a normal day. She’s slim, though, and if I ignore the wrinkles in her face and the sunk in haunted look around her eyes, I’ll enjoy her.
“You called for a maid?” she asks, and her voice is husky. Probably from a four-pack a day habit judging by the smell of her. I’ll have to bathe her. There’s no telling what I could catch from her otherwise.
“Yes, my bedroom and bath need cleaning. You may start in the bathroom.”
She takes off in the direction of the bath pulling along a cleaning cart. I tag the Do Not Disturb hanger on the door, close and lock it. Why can’t maids in hotels wear the black costume? It would be so much more appealing.
“What is your name?” I ask her, following her into the bath area. She jumps. Oh look, I think I scared her. She has no idea how scared she should be.
“K…Kayla,” she whispers turning to look at me. Upon first glance, I would have imagined she was in her late thirties. Now I can see that she’s just had a rough life. She’s probably late twenties at the most.
“Kayla, tell me. Do you have a man at home?”
“I…I have a boyfriend.” Her eyes are dark and probably her best feature. They go wide when she sees me push the cleaning cart back out into the main area. She looks afraid, which is good. She should be. Still, does she not notice the suit and the expensive diamond on my hand? She should consider herself lucky that I am lowering my standards this once.
“That is a shame.”
“It is?” She slides to the side like she’s going to get away from me. It’s cute. They always run at first.
“Does he give you pleasure, Kayla?”
“I…I don’t think we should be talking about this.”
“I want to fuck you, Kayla.”
She freezes and a blush enters her cheeks. Hmmm…that might be new. Even when I took Melinda’s virginity she didn’t blush. Perhaps I misjudged the pretty little Kayla.
“I…I can’t. I’m in a relationship.”
I take out my wallet. “I can afford to be generous. Plus, your boyfriend need never know.
“I…I don’t know.”
“Let’s get the money out of the way? Shall we? A thousand dollars and you’ll be on your way in an hour, maybe two.”
“I…a thousand dollars?”
“Do we have a deal?”
“You’ll wear protection?”
Oh please. Like I would ever sink into her unprotected. She scrubs toilets for god-sake.
“It will be a hardship, but I shall.” I reach around her to turn the shower on. She jumps as my arm brushers hers.
“Okay,” she whispers, and the tear that falls from her eye makes my dick throb. Time to let the beast out to play.
I harshly place her so she has her back to me. I pull that hideous faded shirt off her and throw it to the floor. She gasps but unfortunately does nothing to fight me. She’s wearing a plain white bra underneath. My first instinct is to destroy it. Instead, I unlatch and throw it to the ground. I grab a hand full of her hair, pulling her neck to my lips. I bite—not hard…not gentle. My nose curls in disgust, she smells like cleaning chemicals.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, pretty Kayla, I will ruin you for any other man.”
“Why…why me?”
“Take the rest of your clothes off.”
She hesitates for a minute, and I pull her hair harder. “Give me what I want, any way I want it, and you can take home five grand.”
“Five grand?” she gasps, but I notice she is taking her clothes off more willingly.
When she is finally naked, I push her into the shower.
“Clean up. When you come out there will be clothes and perfume waiting for you. Do not keep me waiting.”
She looks shocked. She has no idea the game she signed up to play. While she’s in the shower, I lay out a red silk negligee that I had Melinda wear for me often. I also lay out her perfume. My dick is rock hard at the thought of punishing the bitch. Well, as close as I can come, until I have Melinda in my hands again.
And…I will have her in my hands again. She will pay.
23
Nicole
The club has been transformed; it looks nothing like it normally does. I don’t know who was in charge of cleaning and preparing for the service, but it does look beautiful. Still, I hate everything about it. I’m sitting in the front row, Bull on one side of me and Dancer on the other, with Carrie beside him. I can hear the tears being shed throughout the room.
I’m not crying. I have no tears left. I’m holding my man’s cut in my arms. Our son kicks inside of me, he’s been kicking nonstop since the service began. It’s like he can feel the emptiness around me and is just as upset. Can he feel the difference in the air I’m taking in? How it is thin and insubstantial? How it does nothing to sustain me. Instead, the air burns my lungs. Each breath feels as if I am the one now dying.
I stare at the black granite urn on the pedestal in front of me. Frog’s is a navy blue urn in an almost matching design and on a pedestal, too. I can’t grieve Frog. I can’t even try. My heart and mind are too consumed with Dragon. The service just broke. The members are talking, they’re laughing or telling stories. Remembering Dragon and Frog in their own way, and trying to hold onto them a little longer. I can’t. I’m two steps away from falling completely apart. I can’t do this; I can’t let go of Dragon. I can’t survive even a day without him, let alone say goodbye. He’s been gone close to a week now. If it was going to get any easier, surely it would have in that time.
“Nic? How are you holding up?” Carrie asks. I feel bad that I’ve been less than nice to her. I think part of me resents her, because she has everything I thought I had—only she gets to keep it. I swallow down my resentment, it’s not her fault.
“Considering I just had a service over an empty urn, and that I’m burying my husband…burying Dragon tomorrow? Peachy.” Okay, maybe I’m not burying my resentment quite so well. I can’t even call him my husband and that just…hurts.
Carrie lets it slide, and my guilt increases. She doesn’t deserve me being so shitty to her.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and she reaches out to hold my hand and applies pressure to it briefly before letting it go.
“Dani was wondering if you’d come by and see her.”
No. My mind cries out. I’m not ready. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. I close my eyes, and I’m all set for my denial, when instead, I nod my head in ascent.
Bull’s heavy hand pats me on the shoulder. He’s been at my side constantly. I don’t think I would have made it through this without him. I look up at him and see approval in his eyes. I can’t smile, but I give a faint nod and swallow down my fear of seeing Dani.
I follow Carrie down the long hall to Crusher’s room. He put Dani in there the moment he brought her back, and he stands watch over her night and day. I’ve only seen him a couple of times, but the truth is, I don’t think he’s doing so great either. I haven’t talked to him. I don’t ask. I don’t have the energy. He nods at us, as we walk past. His eyes have that faraway look in them I’ve noticed lately. I shrug it off.
Carrie knocks on the door, opens it and then stands back to let me in. I’ve barely stepped over the threshold before the door closes behind me. I know she shut it gently, but the sound of it closing seems to echo loudly in the room.
Dani’s lying in bed. Her face is still swollen, and the bruises have taken on
a purple and black shade. Her arm is in a cast, and her entire hand is splinted and bandaged up. I can’t tell it from the cover that is pulled over her, but I know that her ribs are taped. Guilt swamps me, just from looking at her.
“Stop that Nic,” she says, and her voice is surprisingly strong, if not still hoarse. There are still rope burns around her neck where Michael strangled her.
“Stop what?” I ask, trying not to stare at her hand. Even if I can’t see where the finger is missing, I know that it’s not there.
“Stop feeling guilty, stop avoiding me, stop trying to keep it together in front of me. Pick one. Hell, pick all three.”
“Well, you seem to have me all figured out.”
“Sometimes, it’s not that hard.”
I let out a breath and sit down in a chair across from her. I’m wearing leggings and the red sweater dress that Dragon always loved. I pulled my hair up high on my head so you can see the tattoo on my neck that declares I belong to Dragon. I do, I always will. I’m still holding his cut close to my stomach; I’ve not let go of it, really, since Bull gave it to me. Having it close, sleeping with it, makes me feel closer to Dragon. Last night, I even dreamed he laid down beside me. It was the sweetest dream I have ever had. I felt his arms go around me and my breath almost stopped. I told him I loved him, and he whispered it back and asked me to be strong for our baby. The memory of that dream is the only thing that has kept me going today. It’s the only thing that has kept the darkness from swallowing me whole.
“I’m sorry I can’t be with you, Nic. I want to be.”
“To be honest, I wouldn’t know you were there. I barely know anyone is around.”
Silence. It’s awkward and stiff between us in a way that it never has been before. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I want to try. I love Dani…I do. I’m just so tired.
“How’s the baby?”
It bothers me that she doesn’t call him Baby Dragon, since she has from the moment we found out I was pregnant. Dragon may be dead, but that doesn’t change the facts that this baby is his.