Burn

by R. J. Lewis

  Remy’s chest constricted. Was she hurt? Had they…? He gulped back the questions and the emotional havoc he was feeling within and continued to stand stoically.

  “Anyways, they got what they deserve.” Jaxon’s eyes darkened, looking down at his hands as if they told a story he couldn’t erase.

  “How do you know it was Finley that sent them to you?”

  “I got it out of one. He’d put a tracker on me a while ago, I guess. Plus the guys said they saw him make a call before he… disappeared.” When Remy didn’t respond, he continued. “Look, Remy, whatever you do, please, leave her out of this. You wanna kill me? Fine. Do it. Don’t touch her, though. She… She didn’t want to hurt you. She’s hurt herself. She loved you. No… she loves you.”

  Remy kept up his silence for some time. It felt as though his body had been through the presser. The air around him disappeared and for a few seconds he didn’t know how to breathe. He couldn’t… He wouldn’t feel for her. No, she didn’t deserve his love.

  But fuck, he loved her.

  He loved her enough to let her go.

  “Finley disappeared because we picked him up. He’s dead, and Prez is next,” Remy announced. “I’d been on their backs for a while now. They were doing things that benefitted themselves than the good of the club.”

  “Yeah, I know all about that.”

  “Yeah, well, that shit’s unacceptable.”

  Jaxon looked… disappointed. “I was hoping for a bit of revenge after Finley sent the men after us.”

  “Believe me,” muttered Remy with a bored look, “he sang loud and clear a lot of things. He got what he deserved.”

  “I guess I’ll take your word for it then.”

  Remy sighed. Time to end this shit. “I know you took her because you hoped the Jackals wouldn’t jeopardise the arrangement over a woman. You’re right. My guys want peace. We can keep the business relationship going as smoothly as before and vow no more trouble with your men. I want their heads pulled out of their asses, though. You’re in charge now, I take it?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Yeah, well, you clean up that shit mess of a club you got then. Give them a code to abide by. Teach them to fucking respect their women. You got that?”

  Jaxon licked his bottom lip as he stared unwaveringly into Remy’s eyes. “I got that.”

  “Then get the fuck out of here.”

  Jaxon went to turn when a hand grabbed at his arm. He looked at Remy, a foot away from him now, thunderously eyeing him.

  “You do anything to hurt her,” he began, his voice taking on that Reaper’s edge in him, “I will kill you without thought.”

  With just as much resolve, Jaxon replied, “I’d kill myself before you got to me. I would never hurt her.”

  Remy believed it. Jaxon had risked everything for her. The man loved her with everything he had.

  But he was still a fucking douche.

  When Remy let go, he knew that would be his last encounter he’d ever have with Jaxon Barlow again.

  Jaxon

  He watched her standing there, outside of Damien’s house with tears in her eyes and the look of clear shock on her face.

  She didn’t think he’d be coming back. To be fucking honest, Jaxon didn’t think so either. He thought that was it, he was a dead man. While he hoped the Jackals wouldn’t come after him, he figured Remy would. That man had a terrifying reputation after all. Jaxon never thought there was a merciful bone in his body, especially when it came to Sara. And yet… Remy let her go. He put aside his selfish need when he didn’t have to. He gave her up, and Jaxon had never felt more grateful.

  “It’s done,” were Jaxon’s first words. “We’re okay, Sara.”

  Six years of pain. Six years of wondering and aching. Six years down a road that was destined to tear them apart, and yet they fought for each other. Now they were here, finally, and the hope was raining down on them as bright as the sun in the sky.

  She went to him, uncaring of the filth on his clothes, and hugged him. He took her tightly into his arms and felt his heart expand in his chest like never before. She was his, and she wasn’t going anywhere ever again. It was done.

  “I love you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “I love you, Tiny.”

  Love. The word wasn’t enough for him. How he’d always felt for Sara went far deeper than a four letter word. She’d been his weakness since he was ten years old, and yet she was his strength in the darkest of times. She had lived in his thoughts every waking moment, always present in him, but it was never enough. He needed her by him, needed her to fill the emptiness he felt without her.

  She was a match, lit with fire the second he drew near. And if he got close enough, she ignited him, and together they burned.

  Epilogue

  Bad things fuck you up. But good things heal you just as much.

  It wasn’t easy returning to life after leaving the clubhouse and all the horror I’d endured behind. At first the wounds were fresh, and I’d buckle under the memories of everything I’d done and feel the worthlessness consume me. What made someone a good person? Could I be one after everything I’d done?

  Dreams of blood and the dead faces of those I’d witnessed die had plagued me for months. I was too scared to close my eyes and relive it all over again.

  But time did heal me, and so did the people around me.

  Every time I opened my eyes, tears streaming down my face, and whimpered from the memories that wouldn’t go away, his warmth closed around me and pulled me into the safety of his arms. There he’d whisper things into my ear while he stroked my hair and kissed my face until the tears dried and I could breathe again.

  For the first few months the only thing I wanted was the feel of him. I never wanted it to stop. I wanted his touch the second I woke up and the second I fell asleep. I did nothing but live inside our apartment, unwilling to leave in fear of the outside world disrupting our bubble.

  After four months, he had enough, and the speech he gave me forced me out of my fear and back into the real world.

  “You have to stop being so scared,” he’d said after cornering me in the bedroom of his apartment – or, rather, our apartment now. “Look at all we’ve been through, and look how amazing things are for us now. We’ve been through hell and back, and we have nothing to be afraid of anymore. Mom will be with you every step of the way when I’m not here, and with me running the businesses, you’ve got nothing to worry about. The clubs have never been better.”

  He was right about that. He was running the club now with Damien, and they cleaned it up since Finley’s passing. Though the men were just as rowdy with the women as before, there was more respect all around. It allowed some men to actually venture off into their own relationships without the old expectation of sharing to taint it.

  Jaxon was still a ruthless bastard nobody wanted to cross, but he wasn’t violent like Finley had been. He even got along with the new President of the Jackals.

  Edge.

  Transferred out of the Northam chapter, he was voted in by the MC. I don’t know why, as I would have assumed they’d have preferred picking one of their own. I think it had something to do with how close he’d been to Remy and because he was like him in a lot of ways – an experienced VP himself and a damn good leader.

  But Remy…

  Remy was gone. No one knew where, but I knew why. And it killed me sometimes.

  *****

  In the darkness, Jaxon’s hand grabbed at my hip. He moved me so that I was lying on my side, and then he rested behind me. Lifting my night gown up to my waist, he eased himself inside of me.

  “Is that alright?” he tentatively asked me.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  “Doesn’t feel uncomfortable?”

  “No.”

  He trailed kisses from my shoulder up to my neck, moving in and out of me slowly. His hand roamed from my hip and awkwardly over my belly. The movement alone had me bursting into
laughter, and he paused.

  “What’re you laughing at?”

  “You can barely make your way there.”

  “Not true. I’m flexible.”

  I shook my head, admiring his perseverance as he stretched passed my stomach and to my clit, massaging it. “See,” he whispered in my ear, “I got this.”

  I shook with laughter and he paused again. “Stop it, Sara. I’m horny and you’re ruining it for me.”

  “I can’t… Oh, my God, I can’t take this seriously.”

  He exhaled loudly in my ear and pulled away. He slipped out of me and I heard him shuffle around the bed. I turned to see what he was doing in the dark. I watched his butt naked ass walk across the room. Oh crap, did I piss him off?

  I laughed even harder, though. I couldn’t help myself. He went through a few drawers and came back with something in his hand.

  “What do you have?” I suspiciously asked.

  “Open your mouth,” he demanded.

  “What?”

  “Open it.”

  “Why?”

  Even in the dark I could see his features attempt the Mr Stern look. I opened my mouth and waited as he leaned into me. He put a few fingers inside to keep them wide and then stuffed a sock into my mouth. I gasped and pushed away.

  “No! I’m muffling your ass so I can fuck you,” he said, restraining his own laughter as he moved me up on all fours. “So tired of you laughing at yourself…”

  I spat out the sock. “You’re sick.”

  “Shut up.”

  I muffled the laughter by pressing my mouth into the sheets while he moved behind me, bringing my ass up into the air. One hand trailed down my spine and then over each cheek softly. He positioned himself at my entrance, and I felt a sudden trickle of something wet flowing out of me.

  Well, fuck, I wasn’t that turned on.

  “Jaxon, stop,” I said, suddenly feeling strange.

  He grunted angrily. “What the fuck, Sara?”

  “There’s something coming out of me.” I went to sit up and then – “Oh, shit.” Water gushed like Niagara fucking Falls right out of me. “Fuck! Get me a towel! Now! Now!”

  Jaxon just hovered there. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean ‘what’s going on?’ My water broke, you sperminator! Get me a towel!”

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Now? NOW it has to happen?! The lights went on and he rushed to me with a towel in his hand. His face paled significantly at the sight of our drenched bed.

  “What-What do I do?” he hysterically asked.

  “Get the baby bag and help me dress.”

  “You’re still pouring water out of there. You’re going to soak whatever you put on.”

  I gave him an irritated look. “What am I meant to do, Jaxon? Do you want me to go to the hospital naked?”

  He frowned, angrily flashing his icy blue eyes at me. “Don’t piss me off. No one’s seeing you naked.”

  “Then help me.”

  I’ll admit, even in my hysteria I couldn’t help but smile at Jaxon. I’d never seen him so terrified in my life.

  *****

  Twelve hours of bone crunching agony later…

  And she was here.

  Jaxon trembled when they handed him the seven pound, three ounce, pink skinned girl. His eyes went red. The second our baby was in his arms, the tears flowed out of him. He looked down at her in bewilderment. Nine months of preparation had still not been enough for this moment. I watched the joy in him explode, and in his tear stained face, he smiled widely at me.

  “Can you believe we did this?” he asked, gulping back his emotion.

  Just as shocked, I shook my head. “No. I really can’t.”

  “She’s… she’s so beautiful, Sara. She looks just like you. She’s got your fuckin’ pouty little mouth. Fuck.”

  Nurses around us scowled at his use of language and I burst into laughter even though it made me feel woozy as hell. I was so damn tired and yet so mentally awake. I didn’t want to be in the hospital anymore even though I’d just delivered ten fucking minutes ago. I wanted to be home. I wanted to put my beautiful baby girl in her crib and watch her sleep for hours.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Lucinda wept from over his shoulder. “Her little fingers, Jaxon. Look at her little fingers. And her face.”

  “She looks like Sara.”

  “Yeah, but she’s got your chin.”

  “And my eyes.”

  “Well, maybe. It’s blue now but it might change…”

  I watched them both converse with excited ease, regarding our bundle of joy like she was a piece of the sky that had fallen into our lap. I stared at them and, I don’t know, maybe it was the birth that caused the tsunami of feelings in my chest to soar, but I broke down into wet, jagged sobs.

  These two people…

  They were my fucking world. Always had been. And I was here with them while they admired a baby I created with the most amazing man that ever existed.

  Surreal. So goddamn surreal.

  “You have visitors,” said the nurse. “Do you want to let them in?”

  I nodded. Hell yeah. I wanted everyone in the world to see what I just made. This was Jaxon’s baby, I wanted to scream! He wanted me through thick and thin and we made it. We fucking made it.

  “Oh, hell no,” yelped Lexi, bursting through the room. “I can’t believe this shit right now. What the fuck? Look at that fuckin’ baby’s face!” Cue more angry scowls from the staff. “Just look at that motherfuckin’ face, Frank!”

  I looked over her shoulder and at the tall man standing behind her. In stark surprise, he took a few hesitant steps toward us. He wasn’t looking at our baby girl. He was looking at me. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, his eyes already puffy from tears he’d already shed.

  He’d come to me several months back. Said he’d been with Mom before I was born, and that it coincided with the time of my birth. At first, I was in utter disbelief, but then I remembered how indifferent he was on my birthday – and it was him realizing the date – and how sad he’d been when I’d first let him know I was Joanne’s daughter. I understood why Norman hated him. He might not have known he was my father for sure, but I’m sure now that I reflect on certain events that he suspected it.

  We took a paternity test and, lo and behold, he was. I had a fucking father. It was good to know that after all that time Frank wasn’t a creep after all, but a man who’d been staring at his daughter wondering how to broach the subject to me.

  So there I sat, bleeding buckets out of my vagina, feeling the most exhausted I have felt having endured the worst pain in my life… and I’d never been happier. This was my family right here. My husband of three months cradling our creation, a woman I’d always regarded as my mother, a best friend who’d always been there for me, a father who was actually making an effort to be a part of my life, and a daughter… Oh, God, a daughter that I swore I would never, ever, ever hurt.

  “What did you name her?” Lexi asked, wiping away her own tears.

  Jaxon smiled at me and then turned to his mom. “Lucy. Short for Lucinda.”

  Lucinda covered her face and cried her heart out.

  And, right on cue, our little Lucy did the same.

  REMY

  Upon walking into the parlour, he breathed the air and wrinkled his nose. Place smelled like a combination of stale cigarettes and antiseptic wash. And something else…

  He followed the floral scent until he was standing in front of a beautiful blonde girl sitting behind the counter. She was on the phone setting up an appointment and pencilling it into a moleskin notepad.

  He’d been in enough tattoo parlours to know that most of them didn’t warrant a receptionist. Judging by her flawlessly untouched skin, she was certainly not a tattoo artist herself. He wondered for a moment what inked up Muppet employed her, because hiring girls that looked like her for jobs that weren’t required in a place like this… Sniff. That shit smelled like bullshit.


  As she wrote the date down with her left hand all curled around the pen, he scanned the parlour and was pleasantly surprised that it was a slow day. Which meant he wasn’t going to have to worry about witnesses – and after a long day dealing with the petrified whimpering of a broken down Daniel Hale, all he wanted was to get this next job done. Quick and easy.

  The girl put the phone down and casually looked up at him. She stilled for a brief moment, taking him in with a pleasantly surprised look on her face. She was admiring him, and while Remy might have taken advantage of this any other day, today was not one of them.

  “Hello,” she smiled widely. “I didn’t see you there. Do you have an appointment?”

  “Yeah, with some guy named… Bobby.” He watched her face contort to confusion.

  “Bobby? I’m not sure… We don’t have anyone by that name. Guys here like to use nicknames.” She rolled her eyes as if there was an annoying story in there. He didn’t give a fuck.

  “What kind of names? Maybe that’ll juggle my memory.” It wouldn’t juggle shit, the lying fuck.

  “There’s Buzz and Ped–”

  “Buzz, yeah, that’s the name.”

  She nodded. “Okay. He’s in the backroom finishing a tattoo off right now. You might have to wait a bit.”

  “I got all the time in the world.” No he didn’t.

  She smiled again, going crimson at the way he was looking at her. Remy wanted to roll his fucking eyes. He didn’t want to play this shit game. He just wanted to get this job done. Poor girl didn’t know what was coming in a matter of hours.

  “You look familiar. Have you been here before?”

  He shook his head. “No.” Shit, he didn’t think he’d have to worry about her recognizing him.

  “What’s your name?” he then asked. To distract her from finding out, he could play this flirting game – the fucker was good at it. “You look familiar too. Those green eyes are fucking gorgeous.”

  She laughed and played with her hair. “Christy.”

  “Beautiful name,” he smiled, and it was the fakest fucking smile of his life.

  Cue more annoying blushing. Did the girl have skin problems? “Thank you. So what kind of tattoo are you looking to get.”