“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh. I’m here, Raven.”
“What if—”
“It wasn’t. It was empty.”
“Oh, God! I could have killed you!”
“You didn’t,” I try to console her.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry!”
“I know, doll. I know.” I hold her until her sobs die down to an occasional sniffle and gasp.
“About earlier… I know you’re doing everything you can. I’m just so pissed. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her as I hand her my bandana.
She stares up at me, sniffling and wiping her cheeks. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole.”
I smile, sliding my fingers through her hair. “It’s cool. You ever call me a fuck boy again, I’m tanning your ass.”
“Promise?”
I quirk a brow at her as she gives me a weak smile. I missed playful Raven, too. I don’t know how she switched gears so easily, but I’ll take it.
“You sure you wanna go there?” I ask.
“I’m sure… fuck boy.”
I grab at her and she takes off running with an excited shriek. I don’t know what got into me but I chase her, all around the fucking room. Every time I’m close to catching her, she screams and changes direction on me. She stops running and faces me, knees bent like a football player, bouncing on her feet.
“What’s the matter? Too slow, fuck boy?”
“Oh... you are gonna get it.” I warn.
“You have to catch me first.”
I fake her out. She jumps but doesn’t run. I fake once more and she laughs. The third time, I lunge at her but she doesn’t get far before I catch her around the waist, pulling her against me. I back her up against the wall, facing away from me. She wriggles and squirms, trying to break free. Her ass is rubbing on my dick and it’s quickly waking up.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just playing. I didn’t mean it!”
“I warned you, baby doll.”
I lean in to her and she goes still, her laughter dying down. Instead, her breathing grows ragged and I know it’s not from all the running. I bury my nose in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. She’s not ready. I chant the words in my mind to keep from doing too much too soon. I can’t rush her but fuck, it feels good to have her in my arms like this.
“Gage... please... stop.”
I release her immediately. It was good while it lasted. She faces me, her expression despondent. I smile, letting her know it’s all good. She takes my outstretched hand and I lead her back to the firing line. I inspect the target and see her shots were concentrated in two areas—head and crotch. Pretty good grouping, too. Her dad taught her well.
After putting everything back in its place, I lock up and we head home. The drive back to the clubhouse is pretty much the same as the one to the shop—quiet. Only this time, she’s sad not angry.
Inside the clubhouse, preparations for Thanksgiving are in full swing. Every year, Chopper and Nita make a feast and we all get together—members, families, Hounds, everybody. The place smells amazing. Allah’s playing away in the DJ booth and everyone seems to be having a good, chill time. It’s all about being together, not getting wild.
“You wanna head back to the room or you wanna hang out here for a while?” I ask Raven.
“Here.”
I take her over to the couch and she curls up next to me, placing her head on my chest. Nita comes over, offering us mulled cider. We each take a cup and she smiles then leaves. We sit together, quietly sipping cider, and watching everyone enjoy themselves. That is, until Chrissy comes over.
“Awww... you two are so cute. Like, the cutest couple ever.” She sits on the table in front of us, eyes darting between me and Raven. “I need to find you a couple name.”
“Couple name?” I ask with raised brows.
“Yeah. You know, like Kimye or Brangelina.”
What the fuck is a Kimye? I stare at her with a blank expression. It doesn’t deter her, though, and she starts throwing out names.
“Gagen... no... Ravage... no, not catchy enough.”
She sits there pondering until Raven intercedes in a low voice. “Rage.”
Chrissy gives her an “aha!” stare then claps excitedly. “Rage! I love it! That’s your couple name. ‘Rage’.”
Before I can get sucked further into this ridiculous conversation, Tek walks up with a worried frown. I excuse myself and take him to my office.
“Talk to me.”
He hands me a sheet of paper and takes a seat.
“I got into Briggs’ files. Dutch Wife wasn’t in full production yet. That’s a list of potential distributors. Apparently, he gave them small samples to test out and see if they wanted to sell for him.”
I start reading down the list. I go through a few names I’ve never even heard of and then I find one I know. All too well. “Fuck!”
“What you wanna do, Prez?”
I want to rip his fucking head off. That’s what I want to do. I’m going to string him up by his feet, cut off his balls, and feed them to him.
“Just remember what you said about starting unnecessary wars.”
Fuck. Tek’s right. I take a deep breath and try to calm down. First, I’ll give him a chance to explain himself. I know what it’s like to be falsely accused. “Give me a minute. Let me talk to him.”
When Tek leaves, I find the number in my contacts and hit dial.
“Well, if it isn’t the Grim Reaper,” the voice comes from the other end. “Not a good sign when you come calling.”
“You got that right, motherfucker.”
“Choose your words carefully, Hunter.”
“You want words? I’ll give you two. Dutch. Wife.”
He goes silent for a beat then asks, “What about it?”
“You tell me, Ace. Tell me how days after a confrontation with your boys, my girl gets raped. Tell me how you’re one of the few people who have access to the drug that was used in that rape.”
“Fuck.”
“That’s all you got?”
“Look, we were given a sample. When I saw what it did, I told The Pharmacist I was out. I didn’t want to be a part of that. I flushed the rest of what we had and that was that.”
“Where are your boys?”
“I swear, Hunter. This wasn’t us. Those two guys, I sent them to Cali the day after the show. They’ve been there ever since, handling some business for me.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” I shout, jumping out of my chair. “This is not a coincidence, Ace. I want those men.”
“I get it, okay? If it was my old lady, I’d be on the warpath, too. But I’m not gonna hand over two of my guys to you. Even if they were guilty, it would be my problem.”
“You think they’re innocent? You willing to bet your old lady’s life on that?”
“Leave Dana out of this,” he growls.
“They drugged her, tied her up, and raped her. If it was Dana, what would you do?”
“I’d kill the motherfucker. But it wasn’t my guys and I can prove it.”
“How?”
“Why don’t I come down there?” he says. “Show you I have nothing to hide. I’ll even help you out with the search. I heard about Briggs’ lab. I’m pretty sure that was you.”
“I don’t need your help. I want those men. Don’t make me find them on my own or it won’t be pretty.”
“I’m not looking for a war, Hunter, but if you want to start one, I’ll be ready. Let’s try to work this out. I’ll come down with just a few of my guys. We’ll meet and see where we go from there.”
“One chance.” I take a deep breath. “One meeting. I’m not satisfied, you hand them over.”
“It won’t come to that. You’ll see this wasn’t us.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right.”
I hang up and pitch the phone to the other side of
the room. It crashes into the wall and pieces of it go flying in different directions. “Fuck!” I need to hit something. Or someone. It had to be them. It had to be. They had motive, means, and opportunity. People have gone to prison on less information. But what if Ace is right? What if it wasn’t them and I go on a rampage? A lot of people could get hurt. Raven, my family, my brothers... I need to be smart. I’ll hear what he has to say. In the meantime, I start planning.
I head back to the bar, but Raven isn’t there. I’m not in a socializing mood, so I make my way to my room. I have a date with my punching bag. I find her there, in bed with her sketch pad.
“Are you okay?” she asks, looking up from her drawing.
“I’m fine. Why?”
“I heard a crashing sound coming from your office.”
“I’m fine. Gonna need a new burner phone, though.” I sit on the edge of the bed and peek over at her pad. “What are you drawing?”
She hands it to me and once again, her skill blows me away. It’s us. She’s on her knees, cocooned in big, black wings, only her face visible. There are tears on her cheeks. I’m behind her, wearing a Reaper’s robe. I have a scythe in hand, eyes a dark red. I know I’m not there as the one causing her tears. The determined expression on my face tells me she sees me as her protector. She’s closed in on herself, and I’m there as her guardian. Fuck me. All the anger drains from my body. Under the picture, she’s written “Rage” in a creative font. I pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead. I can’t even find the words to express what I’m feeling right now. One thing’s for sure, I’ll protect her with everything I have.
“What’s with this ‘Rage’ thing?” I ask.
She raises her shoulders in a shrug. “Didn’t you hear? It’s our couple name.”
“Yeah... but why that?”
“It’s appropriate, don’t you think?”
“How so?”
“Because.” She stares into my eyes. “It’s what we’re both feeling right now.”
And there it is. The two of us summed up in one word; linked, not just by our names but our very emotions.
“What do you think?” she asks.
Rage.
“I think it’s perfect.”
CHAPTER 10
***Raven***
I’m stuffed and pretty sure everyone else is, too. I don’t remember the last time I ate this much. Chopper and Nita are gods in the kitchen. Right now, everyone is gathered in the bar, having drinks while I’m sipping on sweet tea. Other than the Hunters, no one here is related by blood, yet they embrace each other as family. It’s different for me. Growing up, it was me, Lonnie, and Daddy. After Lonnie left, it was the two of us. Toni would come over sometimes, but that was about it. I’m not used to having so many people around, so many people who consider me family. Even the Hounds have a place amongst everyone today. The blonde—I found out her name is Britney—has been shooting dirty looks at me, but I’m determined not to let her spoil my night. All the others have been super nice. I wonder why they’re called Hounds. Gage is nestled next to me on the couch, so I might as well ask.
“Gage?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Why are the girls called Hounds?”
“It’s short for Hellhounds.”
“But why?” I push for a better answer. “Hellhounds are three-headed dogs with serpent tails.”
“Someone knows their Greek mythology.” He chuckles.
“Tell me.”
“Okay, fine. It all ties in with the whole death theme. See, Cerberus, he was Hades’ guard dog.”
“Yeah. He guarded the entrance to the underworld.”
“Right. He kept the dead in and the living out. Think of the MC as the underworld. The members are the dead, and everyone outside of the club is the living.”
“So... they’re like guardians for the club? I thought they were here to suck dick.”
He laughs, his chest shaking beneath my cheek. “They do that. But they also cook, do laundry, that type of stuff. They basically take care of the guys who don’t have old ladies.”
“Okay. So, everything they do is to keep outsiders—the living—from entering the underworld where they have no business being?”
“You got it.”
Hmm... interesting.
“Does that make you Hades?” I ask.
“I guess so.”
And I guess I’m Persephone? The difference is I came willingly and he’s not the one who “deflowered” me. I can’t help but see the similarities in our situations, though. As I look around the room at all the happy faces, I relax in Gage’s arms. Today’s feast might be considered my pomegranate seed. I’ve eaten Hades’ food, and this is now my home.
Allah moves into his DJ booth and people start pairing up to dance. After a few songs, he catches me watching him and waves me over. I peek up at Gage and he encourages me with a nod. When I get to him, Allah jerks his head at his laptop.
“You wanna learn?”
“What? You gonna teach me?”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “If you want to.”
I stare at him with a raised brow. I’m probably the only person who’s been this close to his equipment, and now he’s telling me he’s going to let me touch it? Wow.
“Okay,” I answer with a bit of hesitation.
“This is Virtual DJ.” He points to the screen. “These are the decks. Basically where the music plays from.”
I listen carefully to my lesson as he talks about crossfaders, beats per minute, syncing, effects, and samplers. He shows me how to play a song and then tells me to try it. I look through his files and find the perfect one then point to the microphone.
“Does this work?”
“Yeah. You wanna say somethin’?”
At my nod, he stops the music and pics up the mic.
“All right everybody, settle down and listen up.”
He hands me the mic and I take a deep breath, looking around the room. Everyone’s watching, waiting expectantly. My gaze slides to Gage, and the supportive smile on his lips gives me the courage to go on.
“It’s Thanksgiving. A day of gratitude and to celebrate family. I’m thankful that I’ve been able to connect with my mother and little sister. Not only that but... I just wanted to say I consider everyone in this room my family. You don’t know how much it means to me that you all accepted me during a time when I had no one else.”
I look to Chopper, Nita, and Ellen. They took me in, no questions asked, and I need them to know how much I appreciate them. As if she can read my mind, Nita mouths, “I know.” I nod and look around the room again.
“Everyone knows what happened to me. You’ve also seen that I haven’t been myself. I’m still not, but I’m getting there. It’s all because of your president.” I turn to face him, letting him know I’m about to talk to him and not the entire room. “Gage... you’ve been patient, understanding, kind, and supportive. I know it hasn’t been easy for you. You’re tired and angry and frustrated, but you never show it. To me, at least.” Dr. E squeezes his shoulder so I know I’m right. He’s probably the one getting the brunt of it. “There are a lot of things I have to be thankful for,” I continue. “But most of all, I’m thankful for you. I really don’t know what I would do without you. So, thank you. Thank you for being... you.”
Just like Allah showed me, I add the song to the deck, and Jessie J’s “Flashlight” begins to play. He keeps his eyes glued to me but as his expression changes, I know he’s paying attention to the words of the song. By the time it gets to the chorus, he’s out of his seat. I meet him in the middle of the room. He tugs me into his arms and right here, in front of everybody, he kisses me. It’s not sexual, but it’s not entirely platonic, either. I feel a sliver of something dart through my body. Again, not sexual, but I feel it.
Maybe I’m not broken after all.
***Gage***
After spending most of the day with Raven at her psychiatrist, Dr. Jayne, then taking her for her fir
st physical therapy session, I bring her back to the clubhouse. She wasn’t too keen on either, but at least she’s agreed to continue. I’m glad she’s finally getting the help she needs, both physically and emotionally.
Before we walk through the doors, the roar of motorcycles comes from the gates. Ace. I take a deep breath and turn to face him as he rides up.
“Get inside,” I instruct Raven.
“Why?”
“Just go.”
“Fine. Jeez.”
Ace walks up carefully, his eyes darting around the compound. The man he brought with him is doing the same. I promised him a chance and he’ll get it. If I have to kill him, it won’t be an ambush. He’ll see that shit coming.
“Hunter.” He gives me a chin lift.
“Ace.”
“This is my VP, Frog.”
I shake their hands and motion for them to follow me. Inside, I find Raven cuddled up on the couch with Venom. He’s telling her one of his snake stories, and I smile at her disgusted expression. Normally, I’d be livid at seeing another man touch her, but lately I’ve noticed she’s had this need to be close to someone. Whenever I’m not around, she finds one of the guys. Today, though, she also has a beer bottle in her hand. I call Ron over and tell him to show Ace and Frog to my office. I take the bottle from her fingers and pull her to a corner of the room.
“I know that guy. He’s the president from the bike show.”
“Yeah. It’s him,” I confirm.
“Is this about me?” she asks with wide eyes.
“I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I’m more concerned about that bottle you were holding.”
She rolls her eyes in annoyance. “The big, bad biker has a problem with underage drinking?”
“I have a problem with my woman self-medicating.”
“I’m not—”
“Raven, I don’t want you drinking or smoking, especially if I’m not around.”
“Why?” she persists.
“Because if you’re drunk or high, you’re not in full control.” That got her attention. She drops her gaze to the floor. “No drinking, no smoking. Got it?”
RAGE: President & First Lady Of The Death Dealers MC Page 36