by Ryan Michele
He blew out deeply, his chest collapsing. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”
MY BODY WAS thrown off the bed, my eyes shooting to alert. Xander’s heavy body was on top of mine, his breathing coming hard and fast as he reached around the floor, trying to find something.
My back ached from the fall. It felt like a shoe was digging into my back.
“Xander,” I said, tapping his arm. “Get up.”
He said nothing, just continued to look for whatever he was grasping for.
“Xander!” I yelled more loudly.
He again said nothing. Whatever was in my back dug in farther with each of his frantic movements.
“Xander!” This time, I screamed as fear hit me that he wasn’t going to get off me.
I began hitting him in earnest, trying to get his attention.
His head snapped to mine, and a cold shiver went down my spine. His eyes were open, but they were void, vacant, empty. The life that was Xander ceased to exist.
Fear like no other spiraled as I tried to get up again.
I squirmed hard, trying to get loose, as he trapped my wrists above my head. I lied. This was when the fear really hit.
I started screaming, “Xander! Stop it! Let me go now!” I said the words over and over as I tried to get away. He was strong, though, keeping me pinned to the floor.
I bucked my hips then pulled my arm hard, getting it free. I slapped Xander hard across the face, needing him to snap out of whatever this was. His face didn’t move from the hit, and the empty eyes staring at me grew intense. How could empty eyes grow intense?
“Xander! It’s me, Gabby! Get off!”
Somehow, at my name, he blinked. It was like a light dawned in him, and he released me quickly, getting off me and moving to the other side of the room. He fell onto the floor, his back to the wall and a shocked, stunned look on his face.
I sat up and rubbed my wrists, not quite sure of what had just happened, afraid of saying anything.
Pulling myself together, I moved to the bed and sat on the edge. Xander remained where he was, his head in his hands.
What was I supposed to say or do? I had no clue. I didn’t know what any of this meant. For two weeks, we’d had some seriously weird crap happening, and it needed to stop. That first week he was home had gone fine. This last one had been a rollercoaster ride, some up and some down. The down scared the hell out of me when Xander would lose his temper in a flash or when his mood would abruptly change. This happened regularly and seemed to be getting more frequent instead of less.
I took him to the grocery store, and his attentiveness to the surroundings took me aback. He eyed every single person like they were going to hurt either him or me at any moment. His body was wound so tight I feared he may have a heart attack or something. After that first time, I vowed to make the trips myself.
My coworkers got me a bouquet of balloons with a ‘welcome home’ banner on them for Xander. I was excited to come home with them. He seemed fine with them … until one of them popped. His reaction scared the shit out of me, his eyes turning so damn cold. The balloons made a hasty exit.
The almost car accident was the worst.
I shook my head, clearing out those thoughts.
“Xander,” I said softly, and he lifted his head to look at me, shame pouring out of his eyes. “I’m fine,” I reassured him, but he shook his head. I sucked in deep and moved to the floor in front of him, crossing my legs. “Baby, this isn’t getting better. I think you need to talk to someone.”
“Who? So some shrink can tell me how fucked up my head is?”
I winced at his tone but kept going. “Maybe. I don’t have the answers, but I’ve been looking into—”
He jackknifed off the floor and began pacing. “You’ve been looking into what, Gabby?” he said in an accusing tone.
I rose and sat back on the bed, watching his movements as he moved back and forth. He walked like a caged animal, ready to pounce at any time. I knew I needed to tread carefully. Even with my training as a nurse, it was difficult.
“At the VA, they have people there you can talk to who are going through the same things you are. Who can help,” I tried.
“Yeah, right. This shit…” He reached behind his head and rubbed his neck as his movements continued. “It’s in my head, Gabby. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop it.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But Xander, it’s starting to scare me.”
He stopped his movements, his eyes coming to mine, the pain seeping back. I needed to get this out, so I powered on.
“First, your mother then checking around the house in the middle of the night to make sure it was safe and the constant phone calls to make sure that I’m okay while I’m at work. Add in the almost car wreck we were in.”
“That wasn’t my fault. That dick was trying to run us off the road.”
“No, Xander. He had his signal light on and was moving in front of us on the highway. It wasn’t anything malicious. It’s how people lane change, baby, and you took it all wrong, almost getting us both hurt.” It was scary to nearly miss the cement wall partition because Xander got so pissed when the guy got in front of us.
“I …” He looked at the ground. “I don’t know. It seemed like he was going to ram into us.”
“He wasn’t, Xander. He was close to us, yes. I’ll give you that, but he was just changing lanes.”
“You hate me, don’t you?” he asked softly.
“No.” I rushed to him. “I love you. I just don’t know how to help you or what you need.”
“You, baby. All I need is you.” He pulled me into his arms, and I wrapped mine around him.
“We need to figure out what’s going on, Xander,” I told him, but something told me I would need reinforcements.
XANDER KISSED ME hard. “Love you,” he told me, a smile playing on his lips.
This was the Xander I loved. Truth be told, I loved every part of him, even the ones that scared me.
“Love you, too. Are you going to apply today?” I asked with hopefulness.
He’d been going back and forth about what he wanted to do, but he still hadn’t decided. First, he wanted to get a job as a laborer. Then, he wanted to go back to school. Then, he wanted to find something working on equipment. He didn’t really know what he wanted, but him cooped up in this house wasn’t working for him.
He shrugged. “We’ll see what the day brings.”
I said nothing, even though I wanted to ask him, “How many times does the lawn need to be mowed?” or “Do you really need to weed around the flower beds again?” There was no use in this, and I didn’t want to fight with him.
“Have a good day.” I smiled, leaving my man standing at the door.
I jumped in my car, turned the ignition, and bolted out of the driveway. With our home in the distance, I grabbed my cell.
“Yeah?” he answered on the second ring.
“It’s Gabby. Stiff, we need to talk.”
THE ROAR OF A motorcycle’s pipes could be heard in the distance, and I turned toward them. Stiff swung into my driveway, parking his bike and getting off. I rose from the dirt, brushing my hands off on my jeans.
“Brother,” I welcomed as Stiff pulled me into a quick hug then released me.
“How the fuck you been?” he asked.
I wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, so I went with, “Fine.”
“Bullshit. You got any beer?”
I nodded toward the door, and then we walked inside where I grabbed two beers. We then headed to the backyard, sitting at the small patio set.
“What?” I asked. Stiff had never been one to beat around the bush about anything. Better to have him get it out and done.
“I know there’s shit goin’ on with ya. We gotta work that shit out.”
I quirked my brow questioningly.
“Talked to Gabby earlier.”
My stomach fell. Fuck me. Gabby called my brother? Fuck, I knew I had some shit in my head, but fuck …
to call my brother?
“She’s worried about ya.”
“Fucking hell.” I took a large pull from my beer and then stood up, a sense of betrayal hitting me in the gut as anger burned. “You’re shitting me, right?” I ground out, not letting Stiff finish. “I fucking don’t believe it.”
“Sit your ass down.” Stiff said, and I glared.
“I will not sit the fuck down! She should not have gone behind my fucking back!” I roared as Stiff rose.
“Brother,” he warned, but I didn’t listen.
“I mean, who the fuck does she think she is, spreading my shit to other people? That doesn’t fucking fly with me,” I spouted off, seriously enraged.
“Brother!” Stiff said again, walking closer to me. “Calm the fuck down.”
My blood only pumped harder. “Fuck off,” I told him.
“You stupid motherfucker, listen to me.” It was Stiff’s turn to pull out his anger.
I said nothing, merely stayed rooted to the spot, too angry to let this slide.
“Gabby fucking loves your sorry ass. She’s fucking scared and didn’t know where else to turn. She fucking cares about you, asshole. Don’t be pissed at her for that. She didn’t betray shit, because if she wouldn’t have told me, I’d have been on your ass harder than I am now. So stop whatever bullshit you have rolling round in that head of yours, sit the fuck down, and let’s get this shit figured out.”
Out of everything Stiff just said, the one thing that stood out to me was she’s scared. My Gabby was scared? Fuck, I never wanted her to feel that way. Fucking ever. And I had a way to stop that shit, to take that fear away from her.
I sucked in a deep breath, compartmentalizing all my emotions as I nodded to Stiff.
“Good. Sit,” he said.
Releasing my fists that I hadn’t known were clenched so damn hard my knuckles were white, I sat.
“Don’t know why she talked you,” I grumbled.
“Didn’t I just tell you why? Now shut the fuck up and listen,” Stiff said immediately. “Talked to some guys I know. They have a group you can go to talk this shit out. I trust ’em. The guy I talked to belongs to another club, but he’s a good man and wouldn’t steer me wrong.”
“I don’t—”
“Stop it. We’re sortin’ you out. You’ve got a shit ton of life to lead, and you’re gonna do it.”
“Stiff, I’m not fucking talking to some random people.”
Stiff leaned in close, but I didn’t flinch away. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. If I’ve gotta duct tape your ass to the back of my bike and haul you there my damn self, I fuckin’ will.”
I rubbed my hand over my face. “How in the fuck can I talk about shit when I don’t know what hell is wrong with me?”
“You talk because that woman you got fuckin’ loves ya. You talk because you have a brother who loves ya, too. You talk because we want you around and not digging yourself into some place that you can’t get out of.” Stiff laid it out in true Stiff fashion. “Somethin’ else.”
“You gonna cure world hunger now?” I joked, trying to ease the tension inside of me, but it didn’t work.
“Funny, asshole. No. Want you to come work at the shop. Spook’s gonna hire you on as a mechanic. Know you know your shit and will be good at it.”
“He wants to give me a job?”
“Fuck yeah. And there’s somethin’ else I want ya to think about.”
I felt like a lead elephant weighed on my shoulders, and he was piling more shit on top.
“Want you to prospect for the club. You know the brothers—fuck, grew up with ’em.”
I shook my head. I’d never had any inclination to join. Not only that, but being a Marine, I wasn’t allowed to have ties to a gang. My brother was the closest I needed to get.
“Stop that shit and listen,” Stiff ordered, which I didn’t like, but he was my brother and the only one on the fucking planet I’d allow to do it.
“Go ahead.”
“We’re all we’ve got. Mom’s a cunt and good for nothin’. Vipers, we’re a fuckin’ family, Xander. May not be blood, but it’s fuckin’ better than that. We choose who we have in our family. Hand pick those fuckers and only pick the best men for it.”
I thought for a beat. “That why you joined? ’Cause you needed a family?”
He took a pull from his beer and swallowed. “Partly. Another part, I don’t give a shit about society’s rules, the proper bullshit that most people follow. In the club, I can be me. Now I am me … no fuckin’ hesitation. I didn’t have a way; my bothers helped me find it.”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head.
“I’m not fuckin’ around, Xander. You’re doin’ this shit. I’m not gonna sit back and watch you spiral down. Fuck that. I got the means to help your ass, so I’m fuckin’ doing it.”
“Fuck, why ya gotta get all mushy and shit,” I said to ease my brother. It felt as if he were on edge, ready to implode. It wasn’t something I’d wanted. Hell, none of this was something I’d anticipated.
“Shut it. You still got your old bike?”
I shook my head. “Sold it.”
“No worries. We’ll set you up.”
“Stiff, I don’t know if the club is for me.”
“Brother, I’m fuckin’ holding a goddamned branch out to ya. Grab the fuck on and let’s roll.”
I smiled and listened to my big brother.
One month later
SPOOK, MY BROTHER, and the Vipers gave me a chance. Not only did I start talking, I joined as a prospect of the club. I fucking loved working in Creed’s Automotive, making customized cars and bikes. And the brothers grew on me.
Stiff was right, not that I would tell him. The brothers were a family, one I was slowly becoming part of. Sure, I’d known the guys for years, but this was different. I’d always been Stiff’s brother; now I was becoming a brother. I found a team again, something I’d had for so long before it just disappeared, leaving me behind. I wanted that back. I needed that back. That sense of belonging was enough to pull me in.
I started talking to the guys Stiff hooked me up with. It wasn’t great at first. Fuck, who was I kidding? It still wasn’t good, but it was better than before. I didn’t like dredging up shit. Hearing the other guys talk about everything that hit them helped in a strange way. While I didn’t really want to hear it, once I did, I realized I wasn’t alone. I think that was a turning point for me.
Luckily, the flashbacks were becoming more scarce. I still had a few, but I’d take once every week to three or four times a day. It would take time, but I’d get there.
The guys even hooked Gabby up with their wives or significant others. She told me talking to them helped her to understand me better and what I was going through, which was good considering I was still trying to figure it the fuck out.
Gabby … Damn, I loved that woman. Sure, we had our ups and down, but she was it for me, and that was all that mattered.
Life was beginning to turn around, and I couldn’t wait to see what the future brought. One thing I knew for a fact: it would include a ring on my woman’s finger.
Author Bio
Ryan Michele found her passion in making fictional characters come to life. She loves being in an imaginative world where anything is possible and has a knack for special twists readers don’t see coming.
She writes MC, Contemporary, Erotic, Paranormal, New Adult, Inspirational, and many more romances. And whether it’s bikers, wolf shifters, mafia, or beyond, Ryan spends her time making sure her heroes are strong and her heroines match them at every turn.
When she isn’t writing, Ryan is a mom and wife living in rural Illinois and reading by her pond in the warm sun.
STALK RYAN
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorryanmichele
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Website: http://www.authorryanmichele.net
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In The Red
Devil’s Due MC Book 1
©2016 Chelsea Camaron
The event that shook one small town to its core was never solved. The domino effect of one person’s crime going unpunished is beyond measure.
He’s no saint.
Dover ‘Collector’ Ragnes rides with only five brothers at his back. Nomads with no place to call home, they never stay in one place too long. Together, they are the Devil’s Due MC, and their only purpose is to serve justice their way for unsolved crimes everywhere they go.
She’s not afraid to call herself a sinner.
Emerson Flint still remembers the loss of her elementary school best friend. She is all grown up, but the memories still haunt her of the missing girl. Surrounding herself with men at the tattoo shop, she never questions her safety. Her life is her art. Her canvas is the skin of others.