Razing Grace: Razing Grace Part 1

by Amo Jones

  “So,” she begins, measuring the flour. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  I look up at her. “No. Not really.”

  “Millie, I know that—”

  “It’s not that, Melissa. It’s complicated.”

  “Well, when you wanna talk, promise me you will come to me?”

  I smile weakly. “Of course.”

  She stirs the batter in silence, to the point where it is almost awkward. “Look,” I say, getting up from the stool. “I won’t be here for long. I remember how much of a greedy bastard Hella is with you and I don’t want to intrude.”

  “No!” Melissa quickly drops the mixing spoon and rounds the breakfast bar, wiping her hands on a paper towel. Shaking her head, she places her hands on my shoulders. “Don’t. We want you here. For as long as it takes. We can talk about more of that stuff once the boys get back.”

  “Get back?” I question, taking a seat back on the barstool. “From where?”

  I had assumed they were right behind us. I need to stop assuming things because things play out a lot differently than they usually do in this world.

  “From Raze’s house,” she answers. “He’s hot.”

  “Melissa?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Don’t start, okay?”

  “Okay.” She winks at me knowingly. She’s still semi the same. Good to know.

  “What happened there anyway?” I ask, looking around the kitchen for alcohol. “I need a glass of wine or something.”

  She stops pouring the batter and turns to face me. “Okay, sis, just how far gone are you?”

  “Well…” I scoot off the stool and walk near her, opening up the drawers in the kitchen on my search. “I’ve been touched, rubbed, licked, sucked, and fucked, seven different ways on seven different occasions, until I was fucking blue in my face. I’ve dropped a molly, been so drunk off my face that I couldn’t see straight, and…” I pause, pulling out the bottle of red wine and a glass. Blowing the dust off the bottle and ignoring the silence from behind me, I continue, “Oh yeah! And I’ve had an orgy, and a threesome with two of the hottest guys I’ve ever laid eyes on, all while watching the guy I had teeny tiny feelings for have sex with one of his live-in whores right in front of me.” Twisting the cap off, I pour the wine into a glass and spin around to face Melissa who is so pale, I think I shocked her into silence for once in her life. I wave my hand around her face, bringing my glass to my lips. “Yoo-hoo? Earth to Melissa…”

  “Holy fuck,” she gasps, gripping the kitchen counter until her knuckles turn white. “Okay, hang on…” She pauses, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead. “Okay, before I go any further, did anyone rape you?”

  Her eyes connect with mine and it’s like looking into a mirror of glass just before it’s about to shatter. I can almost hear the sound of cracking.

  “No, Melissa,” I answer truthfully.

  She exhales a strong shaky breath, her body bending over with her palms resting on her knees in relief. “Thank fucking god. Holy shit, I thought that was going to be quite a list of people for me to wipe out.”

  “But that’s just it,” I answer, walking back to my stool. “I fucking liked it,” I whisper so hoarsely my throat tightens around my truthful words.

  “Oh, honey.” She walks over to me, taking the bottle out of my hands and bringing it to her lips before she tips it and takes a long pull of the red bitter joy. “Is your soul punishing you because of your body?”

  “That’s not it either.” I take it back from her and pour my glass to the rim.

  “What is it then?” She quickly walks back to the pancakes and flips them briefly before turning them out onto a plate.

  “It’s that I felt nothing. I mean, I cared about Miles and was obsessed with Raze. I fucked them both, but would still dream of nights where I wanted Raze’s head on a stick. Those feelings were very real, but they felt superficial at the time. Like I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. I felt anger and hurt and, fuck, I wanted to kill Cassia on more than one occasion, so those are all feelings, but!” I pause, taking a long breath and sucking down some more wine. “But I didn’t have any of the love I felt before. The love that is natural, the love I have for you,” I whisper. “Until you came, that is, and then I felt it. You splashed your color back into my very black and white world.”

  “Holy shit,” she breathes out. “So what happened? With you and Raze? I mean what is actually going on?”

  I begin to tell her about Raze—at least, the parts I know—but before anything can escape, my mouth slams shut. I don’t know why. I don’t owe him anything. I should pour out every single thing I know about Raze to Melissa. Hell, I should use Melissa and the club as a means to take Raze down. But I can’t, and that annoys me even more. Even though I want to, I can’t bring myself to snitch on Raze, even if it is to my sister.

  Shaking my head, I finally answer, “I don’t know much. I was nothing to them.”

  Her eyes remain on mine for another few seconds before she taps the counter. “Alright then, if you say so.”

  I know she knows I’m hiding something, but I also know that Melissa respects loyalty in whatever form it comes in. I feel terrible, like I’ve chosen a side and I don’t want her to think that at all.

  “Melissa?”

  “Yeah?” She pauses on her way back to the stove, her head tilting over her shoulder to look at me.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  She smiles weakly but not meeting my eyes.

  “I know and I love you too. Now,” she claps her hands. “Pancakes!”

  It isn’t until later that night when I finally hear Hella’s bike pull up outside. After eating pancakes, I had told Melissa I was tired and she showed me to my room. It’s exactly as she said it was: a media room. There’s a massive U-shaped couch that is so big it could be used, and is being used, as a bed. Hella’s house is large, but it only has three bedrooms. One is being redecorated right now so it has everything stripped out of it and the other is Garret’s room, which I didn’t want to intrude in, so here I am on the biggest couch in history, I’m sure. The deep rumble of the bike cuts out and the front door opens before I hear Melissa’s hushed tones mixed with Hella’s deep words. Flicking the puffy blanket off me, I tiptoe to the door and press my ear against it.

  “What do you mean?” Melissa asks angrily.

  “I mean that they’re brothers, Melissa.” I hear Hella’s heavy footsteps and the loud stomping intensifies as he hits the kitchen tiles.

  I already know that, of course, but I want to hear if there is anything else going on as well. Not that I know whether or not Hella and Melissa share that kind of information with each other, but I wouldn’t put it past them; they are that obsessed with each other. At one point, I thought it was downright unhealthy and that they were an inch away from killing each other, but now I think I understand it a bit more. Not that I loved Raze. That’s not it at all, and even just having that thought floating around in my mind gets on my nerves, but I get the hate-mixed-with-lust part, at least.

  Realizing I’d been too lost in my thoughts to follow any more of their conversation, I begin walking back to my bed when Hella’s voice catches my attention.

  “Raze has little amount of loyalty to Kurr, but Beast isn’t trusting his words right now, so we have to figure out how we’re going to come to a compromise. And unfortunately your little sister, who by the way, Miles nicknamed puddin’, as in Harley fucking Quinn puddin’…” He pauses and I hear Melissa chuckle under her breath. “Not funny, babe. That scares the fucking shit out of me. Now I got two crazy fucking Harts under my roof?”

  So that’s why Miles calls me puddin’. But that confuses me further because if my comic knowledge is up to scratch, which if I’m being honest, isn’t very knowledgeable, Harley calls Joker “puddin’”. So, in good Miles fashion, he’s nicknamed me after The Joker. Does that make him my Harley? I grin at the thought.

  Poor Hell
a, stuck with the both of us, but I smile at the tone behind his words. I got to know him a little before the night I was taken, and I saw how he was with my sister. Back then, I hated what he was doing to her. He had even used me in one instance to get her jealous, but I was in love with how much he loved her. I could only wish to share something so beautifully chaotic like Braxton Hella Ward and Melissa you’re-a-fucking-pain-in-my-ass Hart—his words, not mine.

  “She has a big part to play in this transaction.”

  My eyes narrow and I press the side of my face onto the wood until the skin around my ear is numb.

  “What does that mean, Braxton? I won’t be using my sister as bait for any bullshit deal again. I only just got her back.”

  I hear glasses clinking. “No one’s saying anything right now, baby. Calm down. But I saw the look in Raze’s eyes. I know that look.” He stops and Melissa grunts with a tight moan.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup. He owns that shit whether she wants to admit it or not, and from how she reacted with his side chick…?”

  “Side chick?” Melissa questions. “Millie said it was like, his live-in whore, and Millie said she was marrying him?”

  Shit. Do I want to listen to any more of this? No. Can I step away from the door though? Definitely not.

  Hella laughs. “That bitch Cassia ain’t no wifey, and Millie ain’t no side chick.”

  “How can you say that with confidence, aside from the fact that you’re a cocky jerk?”

  He chuckles deeply. “Mmm, baby, ‘cause he claimed her ass right on the spot. Said point blank that that girl in there…” There’s a pause, so I imagine him pointing his finger towards my door, which gives me creepy feelings that they can see right through the wooden barrier. “…is his.”

  Having heard enough, I step back quietly towards my bed and climb back under the warm blanket. What the hell does that mean? And why am I always kept in the dark?

  RAZE

  I pound my fist onto the sparring mitts as sweat trickles over my arms and down my torso.

  “Bossman, you have a lot of pent-up energy this morning…” Miles begins, his hands held up in place with the mitts for me to pummel my fist against.

  “Shut up, Miles.” I pause, unwrapping my fists and walking to the corner of my gym. Taking a drink of my water, I keep my eyes on Miles as he drops the mitts and walks towards me.

  “Can I just say—”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Fuck, Raze, let me speak.”

  I stare at him blankly, dropping my arms to the side of my body and swishing the water around in my mouth. Raising my eyebrows, I motion for him to continue.

  “What you pulled with Cassia was low.”

  “Low?” I laugh, dropping the water bottle and picking up a towel before wrapping it around my neck. Miles and Millie both have no idea. “Miles, do you not know me at all? And besides,” I say, walking towards the weight bench, “it had to be done or she wouldn’t have left. Everything has to go as planned, and whatever the fuck it is I feel for her…” I pause when I hear Miles chuckling behind me. “Oh, bro, there better be a fly stuck in that fucking throat of yours or I’m going to rip it clean out.”

  “Calm down.” He chuckles, attempting to silence his laughs. Shaking his head, he walks behind the bench to spot me. “You love her.”

  My ass hasn’t even touched the bench when I shoot back up, landing to my feet. “The fuck you just say?”

  Miles smirks, unaffected. Cocky fucker. “I said,” he begins, leaning his elbows on the metal bar. “That you love her. L. O. V…”

  “Miles?” I say softly, my eyes narrowing. “You’re this close,” I inch my fingers apart, “to losing all your teeth, and I’m not playing, brother.”

  “Alright, sorry.” He throws his hands up in defeat and I take a seat back on the bench before lying down. Clutching the barbell in my hand, I go to push it up when he starts again. “I’m just saying, you’ve never—”

  “Miles!” I snap, looking up at him from under the bar. His face looks down at me. I continue, “I don’t fucking love her. I’m not qualified to love.” Exhaling, I lift the bar off its brackets.

  “What? You think you have to earn a degree to love someone? No, Raze.”

  “No,” I huff, pumping out my reps. “I got kicked the fuck out of that college. I. Cannot. Feel. Love.”

  “How do you know?” Miles continues.

  “I just do.”

  “Well, do you think I can love?” he shoots back.

  “Yes.” I answer without a doubt, because he can. Miles is a stone cold killer, and not just any killer, but he has perfected the art of killing. Miles can make killing a classy act. Strangest fucking guy you’d ever meet, but his heart is not cold. I thought it was… until I saw him with Millie.

  “Okay,” Miles answers with a roll of an eye. “You’ve always said you and I were much alike in the whole heartless department.”

  “True,” I answer, placing the bar back on the stand and getting to my feet. “But that was until I saw you with Millie.”

  “Really?” he says smugly, walking towards me. “Well ditto, Raze, the executioner, 000 of fucking heartless Tripp, that’s exactly how I know you are capable too.” I run the towel across my neck to wipe the sweat off. Miles laughs smugly as he bounces backwards towards the door. “As you can see…” His arms stretch wide. “That girl is the only girl that has brought to the surface not one, but two coldhearted dead men. Now,” he adds with a deep smirk, tilting his head over his shoulder to check to see if the door was open, “who’s going to get her first?”

  I launch off the bench just as he laughs like a high-pitched hyena and bolts out the door.

  My phone starts ringing in my pocket. “Fuck.” I pull it out and slide it unlocked. “What?”

  “I’ve come to a decision,” Beast mumbles down the other line.

  “Yeah?” I take a seat back on the bench. “Continue.”

  “We need to meet somewhere.”

  “Here.”

  Beast laughs. “Yeah, no. Not now. Not now that I know who you are. Public setting. There’s a bar across town, on the outskirts. Meet there at, say, twelve?”

  “Done. Send me the details.” I hang up and make my way out of the gym. I can deal with Miles later, and as much as I know Millie has a little thing for him and he her, they’re both full of shit. Miles is stuck between boyfriend one and girlfriend one all while still having sex with girls on the side. He doesn’t need or want Millie in that way. I’ve yet to tell Miles that he’s in love with Blake, or why else would he not sleep with another male except for him? It doesn’t make sense, him drowning himself in pussy. He’s doing it to avoid cock. Blake’s cock.

  Pushing open my bedroom door, I find Cassia sprawled out on my bed. I stiffen. “Get the fuck out.”

  “Oh, what? We didn’t even get to start yesterday before we were so rudely interrupted.”

  “Enough went on, now get the fuck out. You know the fucking rules.”

  “Raze,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t even put your dick in me. Please.” She pouts.

  I laugh, looking to the side before looking back at her. “I’m going to give you three seconds to get the fuck out of this room or I’ll kill you my fucking self.”

  Her face sets. “You wouldn’t.” Rising, she approaches me. “My dad won’t like that.”

  My hand flies up to her throat. “Your dad?” I say, tilting my head and studying her face while my fingers clench onto her throat roughly until I feel her neck constricting under my pressure. “He needs me more than I need him, so I wouldn’t be so cocky. He would let me kill you in a heartbeat if it meant he gets protection.” Tossing her body to the side, I point to the stairs. “Get the fuck out.”

  She quickly gets to her feet and runs out of my room.

  Grunting out in frustration, I sit on my bed with my hands on my face. I’m feeling like I need to go another round with Miles, but I know I’d
probably beat his fucking ass for real just for saying all of that shit about Millie. Dropping down onto my back, I look up to my ceiling and run over his words. I didn’t see any change with how I was when she was around. I let her in, yeah, a little. Did I do it because I thought I owed her because of what we put her through in the dungeon? I don’t even know how I should respond to those questions because both answers would result in me caring in some way. I look at the alarm clock on my nightstand when an idea begins to form in my head.

  “Fuck it.” I stand and head for the shower. “She’s mine.”

  RAZE

  Beast had texted me to meet him at some typical small town biker bar. I laugh under my breath. There’s a line of black Harley’s outside except for one red one: Hellraiser, Hella’s bike. I know everything there is to know about all of the men sitting in that bar wearing a Devil’s Own cut. I’ve known every bit about them for the past ten years.

  Beast: President, ex-Army member, also known as 316; ruthless, deadly, but at the same time silent and calculated. He can kill you in his sleep and not break a sweat.

  Hella: Vice President, ex-Army member, also known as 112; ruthless, deadly, but can be reckless because he has a short fuse. He and Beast balance each other out, kinda like yin and yang.

  Frost: Secretary. Broken home, junkie mom who married a rich well-off man who owns a chunk in the stock market. Fighter ever since he was a kid, calculated, demonic but a fucking genius with numbers. Doesn’t care about much, only his mom.

  Hannibal: Sergeant of Arms. Feral. One of the youngest in the pack and absolutely lethal. Takes after his namesake, Lector. Kill choice and all. Gives fucks about very little, but has a soft spot for some hacker chick he grew up with and his own sister. Comes from a normal home, unsure what went wrong along the way in his mind.

  Ripper: Treasurer. His name speaks for him. The go-to man for anything they need. Some say he has nothing to lose.

  Toke: Patch member. Long standing patch member, loyal to the club and to Beast, but has no issues with voicing his opinion.