“What are you doing here Addison? Why the dress, it isn’t Sunday?”
Addy heard that grumble and didn’t even need to look around, she hadn’t heard that voice in ten years; it had changed, now it was deeper, gruffer maybe, but still the same. She would recognize it anywhere. Aiden was standing behind her, and she felt an involuntary shiver run underneath her skin. It was almost like a low electrical current connected her body to the man’s voice, and for about two seconds, she loved it, wanted to cherish and accept it, and then she remembered. She remembered everything, the heartbreak, the devastation, and isolation this man had left her with all those years ago, without even a single thought or word.
Straightening her shoulders, she did the only thing her broken soul could do and tried to run. Feeling his hand on her arm, Addy wanted to scream, rant, and rave, but mostly she just wanted to be gone, be away from this. His voice, his touch was a drug, she wanted him with every fiber of my being, and yet she hated him just as much.
“Let me go, Aiden,” she said, not turning around to face him
When he didn’t answer or comply with her request, she yanked her arm hard trying to dislodge his touch from her body. It didn’t work. The bastard had the nerve to pull harder until she didn’t have a choice but face the man of both her nightmares and dreams. She wasn’t ready for the devastation of what coming face-to-face with him for the first time in so long would do to her. And, shit, she realized she could have never prepared herself for meeting Aiden Frost eye-to-eye again. His deep emerald green eyes scolded her and his ruggedly, harsh face transformed her back into that sixteen-year-old girl again with stars in her eyes and fairy tales in her mind. He wasn’t a boy anymore, but a devastatingly handsome man. Why couldn’t he have turned ugly over the years, why did he have to still call to her when other men didn’t?
His white blond hair was still cut military short, and he had a neatly, groomed beard. His hard-muscled body was mostly covered, but she could see he had sleeves of tattoos running up and down his arms in vibrant colors and shapes. His t-shirt and jeans were a little worse for wear, but fit him like a glove, showing every dip and turn over his chiseled body, the leather vest she was familiar with lined his torso. The RBMC cut, another reason she needed to get away from him, Addy didn’t want to be associated with an outlaw motorcycle club. Built as a kid, now he was enormous, not only in height, but in width. He towered over her five-foot-six frame by at least a foot. His arms had to be about as big as her thighs. Damn, she wasn’t sixteen anymore, but this man destroyed her in ways no one else ever could.
The anger in his brilliant eyes snapped her out of her perusal of his body. This was not the same man she had once known, and he kind of scared her.
“What the fuck, Addison, I’ve been back for six months, and you haven’t even tried to talk to me. You run around town hiding behind corners and buildings like I have the fucking plague or something, and then I hear you're selling the farm and leaving town? The same farm Pop worked so hard to keep in your family, so he could pass it down the line to you and you could do the same. Have you turned into such a selfish bitch you would dishonor him in that way? Jesus, are you even at all like the person you used to be? What the fuck happened to you?”
Fuck, Whisk was messing this up, he wasn’t supposed to be pissing Addison off, he was supposed to claim her and bring her back to the Club for safe keeping. But the past kept on making its way into his mind, and he couldn’t let it go. What happened to all that shit he thought about back at the diner, forgiveness and teenage shit? Guess that shit still ran pretty deep because he couldn’t resist cutting her one last time.
It took Addison a couple of seconds to let what Aiden said sink in. What the ever-loving hell? He had some goddamn nerve questioning her loyalty and condemning her for doing what she needed to do. She didn't want to sell the damn farm; she had years of blood, sweat, and tears in that place, it was her home, but she didn’t know what the hell to do. The RBMC could handle the shit that was coming her way, she couldn’t. Christ on a fucking cracker if he would have just stayed away, she would have been fine. How could he not realize how much this hurt? To see him day in and day out and not be able to talk to him or touch him. To imagine… Oh hell no Addison wasn’t going there, not today, not ever.
“Look around Aiden, Pop is gone, so is everything else. You don’t get to tell me what you think or who you think I should be now. You lost that right when you walked away and never once looked back. Shit, you talk about me hiding around corners to avoid you. Let me ask you a question, Aiden. In the ten years, or hell even the six months you have been back, has there ever once been a time when you regretted not even giving me a simple goodbye back then? Or answering the millions of phone calls I made to you after you got out of basic? Or how about a single regret for returning every single letter I wrote you without even having the decency to open them? Don’t give me your holier-than-thou attitude, Aiden. I’m the one you left behind without a single word or thought, not the other way around, and you have the nerve to call me selfish,” Addy screamed, pushing him away.
Aiden was so mad his body was vibrating with it. Fuck, how dare she act like this was all his fault.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Addison? I fucking saw you coming out of Tanks house, I stood there and watched as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. You hugged him back and laid your head right on his motherfucking chest. What the hell was I supposed to do, accept that you cheated on me and just move on with you like everything was right in the world? That shit is on you sweetheart,” the way he said sweetheart was so snide, Addy flinched.
“What are you talking about? I never once cheated on you, Aiden. Not in high school and not for a hell of a long time afterward. So, you might want to clue me the hell in here and explain exactly how I did you wrong. I seem to remember getting an earful from Val and her cronies after you left, though, about how you were just with me to give Defiance one final Fuck You before you left. Funny, I don’t ever once remember you telling me you had signed up to go into the military, but hey I was just a stupid sixteen-year-old girl. So, believe whatever the fuck you want, I can honestly say I don’t care anymore.”
“Bullshit, it was all everybody was talking about the next day in school. Fuck, I saw the two of you, and even after all these years, you’re still denying it? Fuck babe, give it up, you weren’t worth it then, and you certainly aren’t now. I just want to know why you would do this to Pop?”
That was the final straw for Addy. She’d had more than she could take and wanted to hurt Aiden just as much as he had hurt her. Spreading her hands wide and keeping her voice as firm and strong as possible she said,
“Look around Aiden, everything I have ever loved has been laid to rest in this cemetery. Glad to know that what I once felt for you will finally be buried here as well. I always knew you were an asshole, but I never once realized you were a bastard, too.” Then Addy did the only thing she could and ran as far and as fast away from Aiden Frost as she could.
Chapter 6
Watching Addison, he barely heard the words that had come out of her mouth. Whisk knew he was trying to hurt her, but he still needed to know why she would do the things she had planned. But watching the remaining light flicker out of her eyes and seeing the devastation, hurt, and anger transform them, he was stuck in a spot he didn’t know how to get away from. Until that day in high school, Addison represented everything good in the world to Whisk. She was light where he was dark, good where he was anything but. Sweet, caring, and loyal. What the hell happened?
He couldn’t leave without paying his respects to Pop. This might not be the right time, but he would do it, anyway. It had been too long already. Turning around and walking to the gravestone, he wasn’t sure how to feel. Standing there in front of it and looking at the carved words actually hurt his heart. Giving himself a second to gather the courage he needed, Whiskey turned his head to the side noticing the grave marker next to Pop. It was a pretty little angel, so he read the p
laque and nearly fell to his knees.
Sunshine Frost
Beloved Daughter, Granddaughter.
June 1, 1990
Sleep with the angels my little one,
Our time was too short
But in that time, you stole my heart.
We will meet again.
Mom
Oh, hell no, what the fuck was going on? Aiden had only ever run from a single thing in his life, Addison. He could fool himself into saying it was because her and Tank and everything everyone was saying, but that wasn’t the truth. Addison had broken heart his heart back then. Now, he was running because he couldn’t comprehend what he had just seen. Getting on his bike, Whiskey sped through the cemetery. He would get answers, and Addison was the one who was going to give them to him. How dare she use his name for a child he didn’t create let alone even know about? That was going too fucking far.
As the miles went on the open road, the wind and rumble of his bike didn’t help soothe him. The closer he got to the farm and the answers he sought, the more pissed off he got. Pulling into the driveway at Addison's house, Whiskey noticed her truck wasn’t there. Not taking a chance at her hiding from him, he jumped off his bike and stormed up the stairs. Throwing the old screen door open, he banged on the door. When the little coward didn’t bother to come and let him in, he kicked the fucker down. Addison had a lot to answer for, and he would get those answers once and for all.
Storming through the house, he noticed how empty it was. All the family pictures and heirlooms were gone, the remaining furniture covered in sheets. Damn she was actually planning on leaving. Running up the stairs, he checked all the bedrooms and the bathroom. Nothing. The house was empty. Walking down the stairs, he was trying to come up with a plan. Addison wasn’t here, and he had absolutely no idea where she would have gone. Walking into the kitchen, he noticed a manila envelope on the table, so he walked over and took a look. His name was on it; hell, he couldn’t deal with that right now, so he folded it up and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket.
After hours of driving around trying to find Addison and coming up with nothing, Whiskey made it back to the Clubhouse. Link was just pulling in when Whisk made it off his bike. Before Whisk could even say a word, he said, “Church in five.”
Fuck, he didn’t have time for Church, they had just done that shit. He needed to find Addison.
“Listen up,” Tuck said, “Addy Sinclair dropped off the signed deed to her farm.
“Her name is Addison.”
“No fucker, her name is Addy. She doesn’t go by Addison anymore, hasn’t in a long time. You would know that if you ever got the balls to talk to her in the past ten years.” He and Tank had a contentious relationship; they were Brothers by the laws of the MC, but that was as far as it would ever go.
“No fucker,” Whisk said, “her name is Addison, it’s the one her parents gave her, and you should respect her enough to fucking use it.”
“Who the hell are you to talk about respecting Addy? You were always so stupid, putting her up on some pedestal. What did you say back then? Your last Fuck You to Defiance, defile the town sweetheart, and all that shit. Did you ever once bring your head out of your ass long enough to see what was going on right in front of your face? That girl had problems, but as long as she looked pretty hanging on to your arm or waiting with bated breath for your next words, you were all good with it, right?”
“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”
“You were pretty quick to believe what all those people said back then. Why was that Whisk? Why would you ever take the words of individuals like fucking Val and her troupe of bitches? Christ, a blind man could see how much you meant to that girl. She never even looked at another man, let alone let one touch her,” Tank scoffed.
“Well, considering I saw you rubbing up on her, I guess your self-righteous ass can shut the fuck up.” Whiskey said pushing Tank away.
“What’s the matter, Whisk, things get a little too real for you back then, knocked up your high school girlfriend, and had to run for cover? Seeing things that weren’t there so you could justify being a fucking coward?”
Whiskey turned around and blasted Tank so fast the man never saw the punch coming. Whiskey was so far gone he wanted to kill him. Grabbing his jacket and pulling Tank close, so there wasn’t any mistaking what he said next, “What the fuck are you talking about, I never knocked up Addison. If anyone did, it sure as hell wasn’t me, fucker?”
Tank spit the blood and spit out of his mouth right at Whiskey’s feet.
“Addy hasn’t touched a single man in this room or this motherfucking town, except you. Not back then and not since, asshole. She never wavered in her faithfulness to you, motherfucker, ask around,” Tank said pushing Whiskey back. “Fucking ask Link, he fucking knew it, even back then. The asshole even sent flowers to Sunshine’s fucking funeral marked them from the Frost family, nothing else. You guys should have stayed up in Frankfurt.”
Whiskey watched as Tank stormed out of the room. When he turned around to face his brother, the rage he felt was unbearable. He wanted to kill something, he wanted someone else to hurt like he was hurting, and his big, fucking brother looked like the best person to do that to.
Tuck slammed the gavel down on the table and yelled, “Everyone, get the fuck out now. You two stay right where you are until I get back. Don’t move a fucking muscle or breathe a damn breath. This shit ends now. I’m sick and tired of pussyfooting around all your damn lies, Link,” Tuck said leveling Link with a stare that would scare an average man. Too bad Link was anything but normal. He didn’t even flinch. “One way or another this shit ends now,” Tuck yelled.
Tuck was a big man, six-foot-six, and he had to weigh in around 280 lbs. of pure muscle. The years he had spent away from the military hadn’t slowed the man at all. Tuck was the President of the Ruthless Bastards. No one messed with Tuck and if they tried, he proved why he was named President. The man was ruthless to his core. But one thing was for sure, the Club and the Brothers in it meant everything to the man. Hearing him say he was done pussyfooting around Links lies infuriated Whiskey.
Whisk had thought about those days before he left to serve his country. Link was the one that had pushed him to sign up, spouting shit about serving a term, then coming back to join the RBMC. Back then Whisk hadn’t cared, he wanted out of town, but he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Talon was still in school, and he would stick around for him. That all changed when he saw Addison and Tank together; he couldn’t leave fast enough. Come to think of it, Link had been the one to get him to go to Tank’s house that day.
Remembering his time in the Air Force was bittersweet. Basic was grueling, but easy. When it came time for assignments to be handed out, Whiskey was approached and asked if he wanted to specialize. At first, he wasn’t sure, but the Officer sent to recruit him said, “Son, we will teach you to walk in the woods like smoke in the air. We are the baddest of the bad; when the SEALS can’t handle their shit, we get them out. When Delta fucks up and there’s no way out, we are the ones that save their asses. Now the question is, do you have the balls to be a part of the team?”
Whiskey’s answer was, “Hell yeah, sign me the fuck up!” It might have fueled his need for validation or his ego, Whiskey didn’t know, but at the time he was all in and ready to go. The training was intense and gratifying. Every rescue fueled his fire. His team became his family and his life until it was taken away. Getting out, he was at loose ends. He could have joined any of the alphabet agencies or law enforcement agencies, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to be free from the red tape and restrictions that had held him back for so many years. That was the main reason he was back in Defiance and a fully patched member of the Ruthless Bastards Motorcycle Club. The only difference between now and when he was a teen was, this was his choice, Link didn't have a thing to do with his decision. He would live his life on his terms and fuck anyone who thought otherwise.
Watching his brother, W
hiskey was getting more pissed by the second, Link just sat at the damn table looking at him like he didn’t have a care in the world. The smug bastard was about to find out that blood and creed didn’t mean a thing if what Whiskey was thinking had happened, did. His brother had a lot to answer for, and Whiskey would make him pay for those things in blood.
In a calm voice that Whiskey didn't feel he looked his brother square in the eye and said, “What did you do, Link?”
The man didn’t even answer him, just stared back. The man Whiskey had always looked up to and went to for advice as a young man and a child. The same man that got him drunk and pushed him into moving on because Addison wasn’t what he thought she was. The same man who just seconds ago, he would have died for, and now he wanted to kill.
“Who is Sunshine, Link?”
Whiskey noticed a small reaction. Link curled up the corner of his lip exposing his eyetooth. Having known his brother his entire life, his tells were easy to spot. A slight shift of his eyebrow or a twitch under his eye. The vein that would pop out and pulse when he was pissed, but that little lip curl meant something different. That curl said he was going to lie, like the taste of it in his mouth was something awful. Before he could even get the vile words out of his mouth that Whisk knew without a shadow of a doubt would break any kind of relationship they had forever, he stopped him.
“Don’t even think about lying. Whatever the fuck happened back then will come out now, motherfucker, and you will pay for what you have done.” Whiskey threatened, barely holding himself back from jumping across the table and annihilating his brother.
Tuck came back into the room, Tank following close behind. Whiskey wanted to scream and then beat on the fucker some more. What he didn’t want was to talk to the bastard. He may have opened Whiskey’s eyes to things he didn’t really want to know, but that didn’t make him a friend. Brother yes, friend, hell no. What was that saying, you couldn’t pick your family? Whiskey had been learning that lesson his entire life, and he wasn’t all that happy about it.
Whiskey: Ruthless Bastards (RBMC Book 1) Page 5