All That Matters (Nightshade MC Book 3)

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All That Matters (Nightshade MC Book 3) Page 24

by Shannon Flagg


  Train wasn't sure that Meg would ever feel better, but this was going to be a start. “Thanks. I appreciate it. You want the hands or the feet?” Monroe paled slightly. “Eh, it doesn't really matter, I guess.” No matter who had which end, the result would be the same.

  Josh would die screaming, strung between the two trucks as they slowly moved away from one another. The death would be quick, but it would not be painless, as he was literally pulled apart. Train wondered just how long it would take.

  He got behind the wheel, took out his phone to send a quick text message to Ace, checking in on Meg and telling him that he'd be back soon, and then he started the engine. He watched through the rearview mirror until Monroe had done the same.

  The window was down. Train heard everything, the sound of the engines and Josh's muffled screams. Part of him wished he could have taken the ball gag out so he could hear the actual screams, but there was too much risk in that. Instead, he'd have to content himself with what he could see out of the rear view mirror and the knowledge that Josh would never hurt Meg again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Watching Jillian and Ace together made Meg's heart hurt, they were so obviously in love and happy. She shut her eyes, but she could still hear them, whispering to one another while they thought that she was asleep. She wasn't asleep. She was too tired to sleep, too tired for anything, and all she could think about was how close she'd come to dying. It wasn't coming through as a bad thing; in fact, she was a little pissed she'd passed out before she'd taken any more pills. If she had, this would all be over and it wouldn't hurt.

  “Meg, do you want some water? Maybe some tea? Tea always makes me feel better.”

  “Get out,” Meg replied and ignored the hurt that flashed across Jillian's face. “I really appreciate that the two of you are here, that you've helped me when you didn't have to, but I want to be alone.”

  “Sorry, but we can't do that.” Ace shook his head. “First of all, you're still loopy. Second of all, you've got no front door. One of us will replace it in the morning.”

  “That's not necessary. I'll take care of it.” Meg had no intention of taking care of it. The moment that these two got out, she was going to finish what she'd started. There were more pills in the house. She'd take them, get back in bed and just drift off. It was a swifter, easier death than she deserved. She should be tortured for allowing the boys to be taken away, given to Roxie, who had never had any use for them ever. Her interest now had to have an ulterior motive. Meg didn't know what it was, but it didn't matter. She had no job, no prospects, no money to hire a lawyer.

  “If we leave now, Train will kick my ass. I'd rather not get beat up. You don't want to see me all bruised up and bleeding, do you?” Ace smiled at her. He had a really great smile, it really showed on his whole face.

  “I highly doubt that, Ace.” Meg looked down at the floor. She had been hearing Train's words over and over together on a loop. “What reason would he have to do that?”

  “For leaving his old lady on her own when she's hurt, and he asked me to stay.”

  “There's one problem with that,” Meg replied, “I'm not his old lady. Do you see his mark on me?” As much as they'd discussed it, it hadn't happened, and that said just as much as her having the mark would have. “No, you don't, and you never will because I'm not what I wants. Can't turn a ho into a housewife, right? Or in this case, can't turn a porn whore into an old lady.” She laughed, and it sounded as bitter as it tasted.

  “Meg...” Jillian started to speak.

  “Stop. I don't want to hear it. We all know how Train feels about liars. And I know how he feels about me now that he knows the truth. I don't need it sugarcoated. I don't know why he came here tonight, probably to get his stuff. He already left the keys.” Meg heard her voice crack. “So please leave. Please.”

  “We can't...”

  “How about we give you some privacy?” Jillian interrupted Ace before he could finish. “I'm going to make that tea, maybe you'll change your mind. Just scream if you need anything.”

  They left the room. Meg listened as they went down the stairs, waiting to be sure that they weren't coming right back up before she got out of bed. It was agony to walk over to the dresser. She had to stop and catch her breath before she could open the top drawer. It held odds and ends, makeup she'd bought but never worn and a vial of pills she'd taken from Josh at one point or another. Meg hadn't remembered that they were there until she'd been sorting through the drawer looking for a tweezer.

  She noticed the framed picture on top of the dresser when she pushed the drawer shut. She hadn't even realized Caroline had taken the picture of her, Leo and Train. They were in the living room at her and Buster's house. Train was sitting on the couch, he'd pulled her onto his lap and Leo had jumped up next to him. They looked so happy; it was the reason why she'd put the framed photo on the dresser when Caroline had given it to her. She'd liked to look at it. Now, it just hurt.

  The picture had distracted her so much, she hadn't heard anyone coming down the hall, but Train was in the doorway when she turned around. “You shouldn't be out of bed.”

  “I...” Meg stammered. She didn't know what to say or why he was there. He stepped forward and she stepped back. Her back hit into the dresser, the picture fell over with a thud. She hissed as pain rolled over her and jerked her body away from the dresser. That was the worst thing she could have done for her ribs; the pain was enough to make her double over.

  “What the fuck is that?” Train demanded. Meg wasn't sure what he was talking about until he'd closed the distance between them and picked up the pill bottle. “Jesus Christ. Did you take any of these?” He threw the bottle to the floor, grabbed her arms and pulled her up. “Fucking answer me, Meg. Did you take any more pills?”

  “You're hurting my arms.”

  “Did you take any more pills?” He didn't loosen his grip. There was a darkness in his eyes she'd never seen before. For the first time since she'd met him, she actively feared him and what he was going to do to her.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Not fucking ever,” he growled.

  “It's really not up to you, is it?” Meg replied. “And you're still hurting my arms.” She stepped back when he released her. “Why did you come here tonight?”

  “Leo called me earlier. You weren't answering your phone. He wanted to know when we were going to come and get him.”

  Meg felt something inside of her give way. She realized a beat too late that it was her knees that had given out. Train caught her before she hit the floor. Poor sweet little Leo, she'd failed him so badly. He had to be so frightened. She could only hope that somehow he'd find a way to adapt. She couldn't even cry; this was beyond tears and too much to take.

  Meg felt Train lift her up. She cried out from the pain and felt her body start to shake. “Fuck. Oh fuck. Come on, don't do that.” He looked as horrified as he sounded. She turned her face away from him, she couldn't look at him. She curled up as best she could when he placed her on the bed. Meg opened her mouth to tell him to leave, but she couldn't get the sound out. It was like her voice had been lost, or maybe she'd just lost her mind.

  She felt Train settle on the bed behind her, his hand on her hip. It was so familiar, so comforting, that Meg just shut her eyes and let herself pretend that everything was fine between them. For right now, she'd just ignore the elephant in the room. His hand moved from her hip. Disappointment welled inside of her, but he'd only moved to spread a blanket over her. The warmth of his weight settled back down next to her.

  She fell asleep sure that it was the last time she'd lie with him like that.

  <#<#<#<#

  Dreams she couldn't remember pulled Meg from sleep. The room was dark, the house was quiet, but Train was still in the bed with her. He was asleep, snoring the way that he did when he was exhausted. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she saw that he looked peaceful. She didn't want to wake him because if she woke him, the susp
ended moment in time would end, and they'd be back to where they really were. The secrets of her past had torn them apart; he'd never look at her the same way again, and she couldn't blame him.

  Meg shifted onto her other side despite the pain it caused her, so she didn't have to crane her neck to see him. He was so beautiful, even if he got annoyed every time she told him so. She reached out and traced her finger over the side of his face, feeling the stubble. He hadn't shaved in a few days. She liked when he didn't shave.

  “You're petting me.” He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

  “Sorry.” Meg drew back. “The last thing you probably want is me touching you, who knows where my hands have been? Sorry. I appreciate you trying to help me. I know it's because of Leo. I know how much you love him. If I had him, I wouldn't keep him from you. I wouldn't. I don't, so it doesn't really matter, I guess. You probably want to go already.”

  “Did I say anything about leaving or against you touching me?”

  “You said a lot of things the last time that we really talked,” Meg answered. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you the truth, I just knew how it would go, and I wanted to avoid that. I didn't want to hurt you.” She knew that she had. He'd trusted her. She'd betrayed it.

  “Tell me now.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me the truth now.”

  It wasn't an unreasonable request. “Alright, I think that I need a drink first, though. Is there any water up here?” Meg would have rather had something stronger to tell her story, but it would make her sick. The water might even make her sick. Train got off of the bed to get a bottle of water from the dresser, then he went to turn on the lights. “No,” Meg called out. “Leave them off.”

  He didn't turn on the overhead light, but he did flip on the one on his nightstand. It illuminated the stack of books he kept there and the magnifying glasses he claimed not to really need. Meg took the bottle of water from him. “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Meg took a long sip from the water bottle. “I don't like to talk about this, so I'm just going to say it. Please, don't interrupt.”

  “Go ahead, Meg. Talk to me.” He sat down on the bed where he could see her, reached out and laid his hand on her leg.

  It was easier to look at his hand than it was to look at him. “I was seeing this guy. His name was Carlos. He was sort of an asshole, but not to me. I was so into him. It had been a while since I'd dated anyone, and he made me feel special. I was stupid, so stupid, to not realize that there was something off about him. We used to get fucked up all the time, drunk and high, over at his place. One morning I woke up bleeding from between my legs and I couldn't remember anything that happened the night before. I went to the ER. I needed stitches to stop the bleeding, medication to prevent pregnancy and disease. I could have reported it. I didn't.”

  Meg looked up when he reached out and gripped her chin. She'd asked him not to interrupt, but he was going to, she just knew it. She met his eyes. “Is that when he made the video?”

  “Yes, I didn't realize that at the time, though. I didn't know about the video until Josh showed it to me one night. He told me it was a bootleg of this movie I was too broke to go and see. It wasn't. It was me in all my glory, getting fucked by Carlos and his boys. I don't think that's the only time it happened. There were other nights I blacked out. Josh told me that there were other videos.” She shrugged her shoulders, stared at her hands.

  “How'd Josh know about the video to begin with?”

  “I don't know. He and Carlos were friends, that's probably how. It doesn't matter, they're out there and there's no getting them back. It's how the Internet works,” Meg sighed. “And that's it. That's the story.”

  “Where's Carlos now?”

  “I'm not sure. I haven't seen him in years,” Meg admitted. “I haven't wanted to.”

  “I'm going to find him and kill him, him and anyone else who took advantage of you.” He let go of her chin to stroke his fingers over the side of her face. “I'm sorry for the things that I said to you and for not listening when you were trying to tell me about Leo yesterday.”

  “I understand why you said them,” Meg replied.

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “Can you forgive me?” Meg had been wondering if he had, if that was why he was still there and not just because of pity and the fear that she'd do something else to hurt herself.

  “There's nothing to forgive, Meg. You had your choice in the matter taken from you. You were a victim, of Carlos and of Josh. And of me. The things that I said were terrible.” He stroked his hand over her leg. “I'm sorry.”

  Meg knew that the words didn't come easy to him. She knew that they were true from the look on his face. “I forgive you.”

  “I love you. I might not always get things right, but I do love you.” He squeezed down on her knee. “All that matters is that we're together right now. We'll figure the rest out and get your boys back. I promise.”

  “I don't think there's a way for that to happen. The court ruled. I could appeal, but they've got a list of reasons why they're not just going to hand custody over to me. Even if we get a lawyer and appeal, there's no guarantee.”

  “Monroe thinks the social worker bitch had something to do with Roxie getting custody. He's looking into it. We'll figure it out. I promise, we'll figure it out and we'll get them back.”

  “You can't promise that, Train. I know that you'll try, but you can't promise it and that's okay.”

  “We're going to get them back, end of story.”

  <#<#<#<#<

  Meg had to stop herself from calling out to Leo that dinner was ready. Habits were hard to break; she was so used to him being there. It had been just over a week since Train had found her half dead on the couch. She had an attorney now, Jennifer Clark, a woman fresh out of law school, who had been the only one willing to take on the appeal. Meg didn't have high hopes for it, but if there was even the slightest chance it would get the boys back, she'd do it. She'd do anything.

  “Smells good,” Train observed, he walked over to the stove and lifted the lid on the pot. “I love chili.”

  “I know you do. Go ahead and sit, I'll get everything together.” There wasn't much to do around the house during the day. So she'd been cooking and teaching herself to bake with a little help from Caroline. A few days ago, Meg had found herself online looking into how to refinish wood furniture. Pretty soon, she was going to be completely stir crazy.

  “No, you sit. You look tired.”

  “I'm not tired, I sat around all day. You worked, so you sit. There's something that I wanted to talk to you about, anyway.”

  “What's wrong? Did the lawyer call? Does she need another check?” Train had been footing the bill for the lawyer and everything else. Meg still wasn't completely comfortable with the situation, but she was learning to not freak out about it.

  “No. I haven't heard from her. I've been thinking, maybe we could start staying at your place. Being here all day, it's starting to drive me fucking crazy.” It was something that had come to her during an afternoon binging cooking shows for new recipe ideas. She'd expected that Train would be okay with the idea, but he frowned.

  “I'm sorry. We can't do that, Meg. I put it up for sale, got an offer. It'll close next month, I was surprised there was interest that quickly.”

  “Wait, you did what?” Meg realized that there were times when Train didn't think to tell her things, but this was was pretty big for even him to forget.

  “I was going to tell you, but the offer came in the day after the listing, figured I'd surprise you. I know that it's hard being here, but this is home.” Train walked over to the cabinets and took out bowls for the chili. “Besides, the boys will want their rooms when they come back.” Train was so hopeful that they'd get the boys back. Meg loved his optimism, he was rarely optimistic, so she kept her conviction that they wouldn't to herself. If she was lucky, they might get visitation, but even that was a long shot.


  “I'm really surprised you found a buyer, the house across the street has been on the market for like two years.” Meg set out silverware and napkins.

  “My place is in better shape, I guess. Good news is, the buyer wants a quick sale. It'll give us more money for the lawyer, maybe even enough to get a better quality of lawyer.”

  “Is that why you put the house on the market? So that we'd have more money? Doesn't the house technically belong to Nightshade Construction?” Meg frowned.

  “The company gave it to me, free and clear, after the bar blew up. It's mine to do what I want with,” Train replied.

  “You love that house,” Meg protested. He'd told her all of the things that he'd done to improve it, all the other things that he still had planned.

  “No. I love you. A house is a house, and if we're being honest, I like this one better than the other one. So, we sell that one and have more money for a lawyer. No arguments.”

 

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