by Ashley Lane
“And Malcolm?” Patch asks the million-dollar question.
Priest sighs and looks at each of us. “It’s no secret that we’re divided on our opinions and the future of sinners.” He looks so fucking torn, but I suspect he’s feeling most—if not all—the same things I am.
After all, Priest is the one that started the club. By chance or something more divine, he found each of us. The broken inside of him called to our own. I take my seat again as Priest continues.
“If it was just us you know this wouldn’t be an issue. Honestly, I never thought this day would come.” His lips tip up at the corners. “But I wouldn’t trade the reason we’re having this conversation for all the sinners in the world.”
Patch and Bullet both make sounds of agreement. Of course, they agree, they have families too.
But where do I stand? There was a time that I needed it. I needed the blood on my hands—on my soul. And though it’s been washed away hundreds of times over, the stains remain. Who will I be if they take this away from me?
They know who they’ll be. Husbands, fathers, men with honor and pride. But me? I’m just Maddox again, and this is all I have. Whose fucking fault is that? I give a big fuck you to the voice in my head.
“Demon will never agree to this,” I say instead, and I’m met with grim faces.
Being part of the MC, having my brothers, the sinners—It’s helped each of us purge our demons. I fear, though, that it may have only fed the one that lives inside our brother.
Priest nods. “It won’t be easy,” he agrees. “And I think we all need to be prepared for the possibility that he may walk away.” A solemn expression falls over his face and he drops his head.
My gut clenches. So that’s the only option? Stay and give up the sinners… or walk away.
Patch clears his throat. “You really think he’d do that?”
Priest stares at the empty seat at the end of the table. It sits, mocking us. A depressing proclamation of what’s to come. “Honestly, I don’t know… Do any of us really know who Demon is anymore?” His shoulders drop as the somberness of the situation settles on each of us.
“What about you?” Bullet says. His gaze is focused on me and I look away quickly, unable to meet his stare.
“What about me?” I shrug.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Bullet lean closer to the table, angling his body toward my own. “Will you be okay? If we leave this life behind?”
My throat bobs as I consider his question. “I don’t know,” I whisper my shameful secret and look to my Prez—my brother. My savior. “What if I can’t walk away?”
Priest stares at me for long moments before he nods to Patch and Bullet. I vaguely hear the scrapes of their chairs against the floor, followed by the door being opened and closed.
“You ready to talk to me yet? Or are you going to avoid me some more?” His voice is gentle yet firm. It’s the same one he uses when he’s getting onto Leo, and I feel every bit the chastised child sitting before him now.
My attempt to rein in my anger fails dismally. “You really wanna do this right now? Fine!” I explode. “I mean, what do you want me to say, King? That I fucked up and lost the only good thing in my life? I did, okay! I fucking lost hi—” I can’t get the last word out.
Priest stares at me with a stony expression. “You finished?” he asks calmly, and the fight drains out of me.
“He left me.” My voice breaks, mirroring the jagged cracks in my heart.
“I know. He came and talked to me before.”
My head shoots up so I can narrow my eyes on him.
“He came to you… before?” Before what? What the fuck is he talking about? How could he know what was going to happen and not warn me? Fuck that—how could he not talk Jax into staying with me?
A thought hits me and I flinch. Oh. God. Please. Fucking please. Tell me it can’t be true.
“Did you… did you tell him to leave me?” I can hardly get the words out through the tightening of my throat as the possibility of his betrayal makes its way through my system.
“I didn’t tell him to leave you, Maddox—” My body sags in relief but immediately refills with anger when he hesitates. “But… he came to me for my opinion, and I told him the truth. He deserves that much.”
My nostrils flare. “So you told him all my dark and dirty secrets?” I sneer. “Opened the closet door and pulled out all my skeletons?” I shake my head, the movement short and jerky. “You had no right!” I grind through clenched teeth. “No fucking right, King.”
He holds his hands up. “I didn’t tell him a single thing about that, and you damn well know I would never do that to you, Maddox, so don’t fucking insult me,” he growls.
“What else would I think?” The fight drains from my body. “What… what did he ask you?” Fuckfuckfuck. My mind and my heart are completely at war. Do I really want to know this?
“He asked if I thought he was wasting his time with you. If you would ever be with him the way he wants,” he responds.
Like a knife, his words pierce my skin, slicing their way into the tender flesh of my heart. He thought he was wasting his time with me. Is that what I am now, a waste of time?
And what does that even mean—be with him the way he wants. We were together… committed. And yeah, there were times that I backed off and did my own thing for a while, but it was never long before I was back with him. I scoff. How he wants? Fuck that. At least we were together then, it’s a lot more than what we are now.
“So is that what I was, then? A waste of time?” He doesn’t miss the bitterness in my tone.
“You know that’s not what he meant, Maddox.”
“No? Then what did he mean? Because brother, from where I’m sitting, there’s no other way to take that.”
Priest seems to consider his words for several moments before speaking. “Maddox, I need to know what you want from me right now,” he says with finality, and my head jerks back.
“What do you mean?”
He scrubs a rough hand over his face. “You know I will never lie to you… But I need to know what you want from me right now. Do you want me to be on your side—for all of us to hate on Jax and curse his name”—he hesitates—“or do you want me to tell you the truth, Maddox? You need to know that if you choose the truth, it’s going to hurt like hell, and it’s not going to be easy,” he warns.
My eyes fall closed. Fuck. This is it. We’re finally here. The fear inside me is screaming to choose option A. To latch onto the anger and hate and run with it. A well-practiced avoidance tactic that I’ve used my entire life.
But I’m so fucking tired of running.
A wave of resolve settles in my chest, and I ready myself. It’s time for my confession.
CHAPTER 8
ANGEL
Priest leans back on his chair, casually spinning the gavel on the worn surface of the table as I wait for him to say something. Because I sure as fuck have no idea what to say.
“Why, when Jax came to me, did I get the impression that he knows fuck-all about your past?”
Jesus Christ. He didn’t lie. This is going to be fucking hard, and he’s going all in.
“Because he doesn’t.”
He nods, having already known the answer before it even left his lips. “Why?”
“Why?” I repeat. “Why would I tell him anything? We were always just messing around… having a good time. No need to dull the vibe with that shit.” The lie flows seamlessly from my mouth, but there’s no point.
He knows I’m lying.
“You wanna try that again?” he throws back, and I clench my jaw. Sometime in the last five minutes my mouth has clearly taken a vow of silence.
“How about I answer for you and you tell me how far off I am.”
Relaxing, I lean back in my chair and wave my arms in a ‘have at it’ motion.
“You’re fucking terrified, Maddox,” he starts, and I scoff.
Priest shakes his head an
d glances at his clasped hands resting on the table. “You know… sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one that can even see you. You try so hard to be who you think we want you to be. But that’s okay with you—If you’re being him, then you don’t have to be you. That’s what you’re scared of, Madd. You’re fucking terrified that if you show us what’s underneath, we’re going to leave.”
I wipe my hand across my mouth and only then realize that it’s trembling. Inside my head, the sound of steel doors being thrown closed assault my senses. A useless attempt of my self conscious to reinforce the walls that I keep securely in place for moments like this.
“I can’t do it, King,” I choke on my broken whisper.
“Can’t do what?”
I shake my head as I physically force the words through my teeth. “I can’t take off the mask,” I admit.
A pained expression covers his face. “You shouldn’t have to wear one, Madd, he’ll love whoever is underneath because it’s you. Can’t you see that’s all he wants?”
I shake my head and push away from the table to give him my back.
“When you think about telling him the truth, what scares you the most?” he pushes.
A wave of shame covers me. “You already know the answer to this.” He stares at me, unfazed—not backing down.
Goddamnmotherfuck. “I’m worried…” I pause. “I’m scared,” I correct. “I’m scared that once I tell him, he’s going to think that… that I’m sick.” My insides are bleeding, shredded from the trauma of voicing my deepest shame. “How can a man that was touched—raped as a boy—still grow up to be gay?” I ask him. “I… I don’t remember being this way before him. Did he do it? Did he make me this way? this way? Did he make me like it—want it?”
Priest shoves away from the table and walks across the room to where I’m standing. As soon as he’s within distance, his arm strikes out and grips the back of my head.
“You listen to me and fucking hear me when I say this.” He tightens his grip. “That piece of shit did not make you this way, Maddox. You can tell me all day long the things that he whispered in your ear… how he knew you liked it because you would finish,” his voice and hand trembles with his pent up emotion. “That’s what abusers do. They twist their perversion and sickness, and they make you believe that it’s your fault. That you’re just as guilty as them. That no one will believe you. But they’re lies—every word was a lie.”
I shake my head. He doesn’t understand. Maybe that’s true in some cases, but in this case it was my fault, and he needs to see that. “You don’t get it,” I tell him. “It was my fault, King. It was my fault, and I did… I did—” I pause to force down the burn of vomit seeping up my throat. “I did finish. Every single time.”
Priest’s grip on my face becomes punishing as he squeezes tighter, but I don’t pull away. My mind is threatening to check out and I need the pain to tether me to this moment. Without it, I’ll drift into oblivion; to the place where every breath I take is a haunting reminder of the stain he left on my skin.
His eyes darken as rage transforms his face. “You fucking listen to me! You know as well as I do that you can manipulate someone’s body to that point. There are reactions ingrained in us, and no matter how hard we try, or how desperately we want to avoid them, they happen—they’re involuntary, Madd. You know that. And he knew it too. He knew exactly how to manipulate you. You were a kid! A child who didn’t understand his body’s reactions, and he used that knowledge against you.”
I shake my head as a full body shudder racks through my limbs. My body physically revolts at the notion I’m innocent. Priest can shove his psycho-bullshit down my throat all day long, but it won’t change the facts. I’m sick. The vilest of vile human beings because though I was molested, raped, and sodomized nearly every day for two years of my childhood—by a man—I still fucking turned out gay.
“He blamed me,” I tell him. “Did you know that? The things he said…” I trail off as they float through my mind.
“God, you’re just so beautiful, Maddox.” His stale, panting breaths are hot as he murmurs in my ear. “It’s all your fault, you know…” As he moves in and out of my body, excruciating pain blurs my vision and I involuntarily whimper. I fight to suppress a gag as his hands hold me down. Thick, cold fingers dig into my flesh while he grunts with each heavy breath. “I just can’t fight it anymore, so goddamn perfect.” His tongue traces the shell of my ear and bile rises in my throat. “Flawless,” he groans.
In our lives, there are memories that we covet. Precious moments we call upon that fill us with laughter… love and happiness. And then there are memories like the ones he left me with. The kind that taint our souls and pierce our insides with the force of a thousand nails. The kind that shreds us to pieces and leaves us wondering if we’ll ever be whole again.
Priest narrows his eyes on me. “What do you mean he blamed it on you?”
“For the same reason you guys call me Angel. I was too…” I swallow hard at the memory of the words. “Goddamn perfect for him to deny.” I sneer and Priest rears back as if I’ve physically struck him.
“So, you’re telling me if something like this happened to Grace, Teagan… Falcon—it would be their fault too? Because call me partial, but they’re fucking beautiful, Maddox. That’s what you’re saying, right? If any of them were raped, they would deserve it because they’re all goddamn perfect?”
I rush him. My hands fist in his shirt as I slam him against the wall, the frames rattle from the force of his body meeting the surface. “Shut the fuck up,” I seethe even as my body fights to push back the vomit forcing its way up my throat. The thought of anything happening to our kids makes me physically ill.
Priest smirks as if he’s proud of himself, not realizing he’s seconds away from being pounded into a bloody pulp. “What the fuck are you smiling about?”
“We’re finally getting to the thick of it. This moment has been fucking years in the making, Maddox. I told you it was going to hurt like a fucking bitch—I didn’t lie. Now let’s go,” he motions his hands. “Because I know that’s not all that’s been eating at your soul all these years. Now, let me have it.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you want from me right now, man,” I deny, but he isn’t having any of that.
This time, Priest rushes me and I stumble back as his hands push against my chest. “Don’t feed me that bullshit, Madd. I’ve never known you to be a pussy, so don’t start now.” He continues to taunt me with every push. “Come on, Angel boy.” Push
“Never could stand up for yourself, could you?” Push
“You’re a fucking coward.” Push
Finally, I snap and using all my weight against him, I shove him back and watch him lose his balance and tumble backwards into the table. He lands with so much force that the chair falls to the floor, but the rage that clouds my vision keeps my focus solely on the words that poured from his mouth.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” I roar.
Priest straightens and pins me with a glare. “I want to know what the fuck you’re so goddamn afraid of, Maddox. I want to know why you fucking hate yourself. I want to know what it’s going to take for you to let go of the hate you have for yourself and be fucking happy.”
“Why can’t you let this go?” I beg, slumping to the floor.
“Because you’re my brother, Maddox, and I love you.” He kneels in front of me, his hands on my knees where they’re pulled up to my chest. “You carry this blame like it’s surgically attached. It controls everything you do, everything you say, every-fucking-thing you feel.”
A heavy silence lingers between us for long, drawn out minutes before he speaks again. “What do you need, Madd?”
My eyes close of their own accord as Jax’s face flashes through my mind—the only beam of light that can break through the darkness.
So much is changing. I feel like I’m in a never-ending fun house and I can’t find my way out. Each ro
om distorting, manipulating itself until it’s unrecognizable.
I feel like my life has been put on hold. My brothers are all moving on, finding love and multiplying it—filling our once cold and empty clubhouse with life and kids. Priest. Patch. Bullet. They all know who they are without the club and the sinners. And Demon, well, even without all the other shit, he’s always had his own agenda. Revenge.
And then there’s me. Who the fuck will I be if I don’t have this club? What’s left for me to become if they take the only means of purging the darkness I’m already fighting to keep at bay?
What do I need?
I need for life to stop moving without me.
I need to come to terms with the truth of my past.
I need for Demon to finally find peace, and I need for the club to stay the same.
But most of all, I need Jax.
And since none of those are going to happen, I give him the next best thing.
“I need a sinner.”
CHAPTER 9
OAKLEY
What the hell are you doing, Oakley? Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time you came here?
Obviously not.
But I need this job, and now is not the time to be proud—or scared.
I remember the nasty words the bartender so easily spouted at me during my first visit. Working with him won’t be ideal, but as I discreetly check my reflection in the window of Corrupt, I remind myself of my game plan. Keep your head down and your nose clean. Hopefully, if I don’t bother anyone, they won’t bother me. Steeling my defenses, I straighten my shoulders and pull the door open.
The scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and boob sweat permeates my nostrils. An obscenely large chested woman struts in front of me, her arm supporting the weight of a tray of beers that she’s balancing on her shoulder. She bends down to place the various drinks in front of their owners and doesn’t bat an eye when a rogue gentleman comes up behind her and starts grinding into her ass. Lovely.