Dawning (The Risen Series Book 1)

by Marie F. Crow

  “I remember,” Rhett agrees with the man with hopes to encourage him to keep speaking.

  “And Lawless,” J.D. laughs as he says, “you were just a street punk. Nothing more than brown puppy eyes looking for skirts. Now look at you.”

  J.D.’s voice grows fainter with his emotions. Emotions he has never dared let them see. Emotions are for women and the weak.

  J.D. is anything but weak, at least not in the old world. Everything has changed now. Everything is changing now. The world he knew is like water in his hands. The harder he tries to hold on to it, the more it slips away until his hands are empty, leaving him with less and less to hold in them.

  “I don’t know how to do this. Life used to be simple. Someone pissed you off, you kicked their teeth in. Now, man now, it’s all changed. I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. I’ve seen how you’re watching me. Marxx is right. I did this. I took us here,” J.D. says, more to himself than to the men in the room. “You remember the cabin? We had good times there. Good times.” He smiles remembering. “You remember poor Aimes when she figured out what she was eating? That girl cried so hard over that rabbit. That girl wailed “Thumper” all night long. Now look at her, full of sass and ass. Helena too. She was so broken when we found her. She was so unsure of her own breath, much less taking on these things like she has been. I’m proud of her. Really, I am. She’s finally standing on those two feet of hers. That daddy of hers would not stand a chance now against her. I’d pay money to see their showdown. Front row tickets,” he chuckles, remembering all the tears she once spilled over the man that caused her soul such grief.

  J.D.’s honesty has left those in the room fidgeting and unsure of what to say when J.D. pauses while his memories overtake him. His emotional wounds are bleeding before them. Their silence is the only tourniquet they have to offer him.

  “I want them back,” he says, finally recovering. “I can’t do it on my own. I’ve done burned the bridge. Set it right on fire and watched it burn. Lawless has, too.”

  Lawless’ head sinks low when he hears his name. Marxx’ does not though.

  “That’s your fault, too,” Marxx says with his voice more gravel-filled after their fight. “His dumb ass may have started their fight, but your pride started their war.”

  J.D. stands, coming off his bench to face Marxx again. His anger is refilling with Marxx’ declaration of his actions.

  “We’ll fix it! We’ll make it right,” J.D. says, finding the end of his rope with Marxx’ constant verbal assault.

  Lawless doesn’t look up. His fists are clenching to keep a grasp on the many emotions and words he wants to let escape. A part of him is envious of Marxx’ bravery.

  “Rhett, they listen to you. You make them listen. You reach Chapel first. Bring him back around. That will be our way back in. Get in with him and they will come around when they see it. Hells is smart. She is always watching. If she sees him coming back, then she will too. Like Marxx said, Aimes will then follow,” J.D. says, staring at the tall man.

  Rhett has been with J.D. the longest, forming a bond of the darkest deeds between them. Now the request put before him is one of tender care. It’s a role reversal of the highest degree for him and Rhett doesn’t know if he will able to perform the task set before him. The wounds have been dug deep and he is not well known at repairing damage. It has always been his job to cause it. “Yeah,” he says, unwilling to voice his doubts. “I can do that.

  I’ll talk to them.”

  “So, we do this then.” J.D. crumples the list, sacrificing it to his anger the way he yearns to do with Marxx. “We do this bullshit errand run of theirs. We know they are just testing us. Simon and Dolph want to see how well we take orders. We’ll swallow their bullshit. Let them think they have pulled one over on us. If it gets our girls back, what of it?” He shrugs, knowing they will silently agree with him. “We will let Hells do her thing. She’s proved we can’t stop her anyway, but you keep her safe, Law. You stick to her. No matter what she says to you. No matter how deep Aimes tries to hurt you. You stick to her. We have to get through the wall of hers. We have to wear her down. That girl is hiding some pain and it’s festering. You break her walls boy and she’s yours. Past won’t matter. You just be there to catch her when she falls. That’s what she really wants. She just doesn’t know it.”

  J.D. is standing before the young man he has helped mold and destroy as Law fights to keep his mask in place. J.D. knows Lawless will have to break through his own wall as well. J.D. has watched the two kids grow together only to fall back apart as their scars become too close to being examined by the other.

  Pulling Law’s face close to his, he keeps their eye contact saying, “You got to be stronger than her. You’re the only one here who is. You take her back to that little world of yours. She will fight you. Every inch of the way, she will fight you. If she lets you take her back there, she will have to relive whatever she is hiding from. You got to get her there.” J.D. watches as Lawless blinks past the many emotions stirring within him. “We’ve already seen it. She is losing herself more each day. When she stood up to me that first day, it wasn’t bravery with her. It was the lack of care at the outcome. When she stops caring, she’ll stop living. It will only be a matter of time till she does something stupid in this death wish she is walking. I can’t lose my girl.” J.D. pats the face of the man he has been coaching in the closest sign of compassion he has.

  “...and Leslie?” Rhett asks.

  “I’ll take care of Leslie,” J.D. says, slipping back into the skin he normally wears. Stopping in front of Marxx, he asks, “You got it all out of your system now? Because if you ever forget your place outside of this room, I’ll leave you with more than just a sore throat to remind you of it. I’ll break it. You got me, boy?”

  J.D. leaves them and yet they follow behind him without any thought to the action. Marxx’ eyes fight to hide their anger as it simmers in their pools of color. Marxx knows J.D.’s days are numbered, and Helena will be the key to either saving the man or destroying him. Marxx just isn’t sure anymore which door he wants her key to unlock, but he is not about to entrust her safety to Lawless; a man who cannot stand up to the man who will destroy them all with his madness. He makes a silent vow to himself to also be keeping an eye on her, because if Hells does fall, Marxx doesn’t trust Lawless to be strong enough to catch her.

  Chapter 32

  Aimes and I are awaiting the boys in the hallway between our new apartments. We haven’t seen them all morning and it makes my nerves whisper warnings over what they might be up to. They did not make it to breakfast or either they ate early to avoid us. Neither option is sitting well with my mind.

  This will be the first time we have all been together since I forced the vote. My hands almost tremble with the anxiety of having to deal with the fall-out. Knowing also I will be spending the whole morning with Lawless makes other parts of me tremble. I am not proud of either fact.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Aimes says, and her voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  I follow her shocked face down the hallway, and I feel my jaw drop to match hers.

  Rhett walks towards us wearing just a towel and a smile and his smile is larger than the towel. I stare, completely unsure of which is more alarming. If it is the barely there towel on his tall frame, or his wide “I’m sexy and I know it” smile on his face as he stares at us or if it’s the combination of it all, but whatever it is, he knows he has our complete attention.

  He is watching us as we watch him with no shame about either fact. He runs a hand through his dark, thick hair, flexing a bit more than is needed for such a simple act. Like high school girls, we follow his hand’s every motion.

  His walk slows to an amused stride with his performance. It stretches each muscle in his well-defined legs. Every female’s head turns to watch him pass and he is loving the attention. I can almost hear a theme song to his walk with the amount of time it takes for him to reach
us.

  “Enjoy that?” I ask him, when he comes close enough to hear me and I can’t help but smile at him.

  “Did you?” Rhett returns my question, raising one eyebrow to match his very self-satisfied smile when he frames my body with his much taller torso.

  “Not as much as they did.” I motion to the women lingering in the hall as they pretend to have things to do around us.

  “Pity. Let me try again,” he says, as he turns abruptly to walk away.

  I laugh, catching his arm to keep him from following through with his plan. He flexes under my hand, continuing our game. The problem with Rhett is his games do not have rules or limits. It’s always risky to dare Rhett, but I think I have this one. I smile at him, watching his smile widen with my acceptance of his dare. My fingers trail along his arms, dipping into the crevices of his toned muscles. They explore the shallow of his collarbone, before I place both palms flat against his shoulders. He pulls me close, trying to match my dare and he locks his thick arms around my waist. The feel of my body in his arms quickens his breath and I know he is mine to punish now with this flaw of his plan. Luckily for him, I know my limits and what lines I will not cross. I’m not going to tell this him though.

  I slide my palms down his chest, watching them with hooded eyes as they trace every curve of him, making a path to that small piece of a towel between us. I match the pace of my breath to his, feeling him growing aroused against me. Tracing the span of his hidden skin underneath the top of the towel, I raise only my eyes to look into his. He is fully erect now, pressing hard against me and I smile. I win.

  Rhett leans in close to my face, stopping a breath away from my lips. “Bitch,” he says with amusement before letting me go as he kisses my forehead softly.

  The hallway comes alive with clapping. The men have finally showed themselves and this is the moment they decided to do it. Now they stand a few feet from Rhett and I, clapping and whistling at our show. Even Aimes joins in with her appreciation.

  Rhett bows to the other men with a great show of amusement and his short towel rides up high enough to silence Aimes who is standing behind him. She freezes mid-clap and the look she wears creates another round of laughter from us. For these few moments, the past few days with their drama-laden hours fade away. I can almost hear the jukebox playing around us as if we were back standing in Grit. I only wonder how long it will last.

  Their entire group is in some form of undress from their showers. None are as brave as Rhett though with his fraction of a towel. They walk past us into their room, leaving Rhett with us in the hall. It is a buffet for the eyes or one hell of a long dry spell for me. Looking to Aimes, who is wearing the most perfect blush, I am voting on the buffet and thankful Shelia is not around to endure the sights.

  “Do I even want to ask where you four have been?” I ask Rhett, who is still wearing his smile with his eyes on Aimes. I almost feel sorry for her with the jests she will now have to endure from him. Almost.

  “Dunno, do you?” he returns, starting another game. “Where were you four this morning?” I ask, calling his bluff.

  He shrugs and the towel dips a bit lower, as do my eyes. “Testing out the weight room before the run. Not too many ways to burn off steam around here.”

  “Tell me about it,” Aimes says, making her blush deepen upon hearing her voice speak the words she was hoping to keep locked away.

  Rhett’s smile widens as he sees a better target to play with. “Been awhile since I have- “

  “No,” Aimes says, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. Her blush is a full-forced red now knowing where his mind was going to invite her, but too afraid to board the ride.

  “If you ever change your mind,” he leans his tall, well-formed body against hers, bending over to whisper in her ear, “you don’t even have to ask.”

  Aimes goes stiff with his implications, watching him like the prey she is as he walks to the door.

  It is my turn now to clap and he turns to smile at me.

  “Win some, you lose some. Rematch?” Rhett asks me, as he closes the door behind him.

  “Did you know he had arms like that?” Aimes asks. Her voice is a little more breathy than normal.

  “No,” I answer, enjoying her torment. “Did you know he had a chest like that?” “No.”

  “Did you know he had a stomach like that?”

  “What are you, Little Horney Riding Hood?” I ask her. “All the better to seduce you with, my dear?”

  “No, I want to be the Grandmother. She gets eaten,” she says, with pure honesty and we both laugh.

  We are still laughing when the men return, fully dressed now and ready for the run. Rhett’s eyes sparkle with the hopes he is the target of our hilarity. When Aimes blushes again as he walks by, it is all the proof his male ego needs. They are all wearing a smile over her blush and it’s not the only thing they have in common.

  Each man is wearing the dark, black leather vest of G.R.I.T. with its grinning skull. Our laughter dies with the realization of it. They ignore our shock, continuing to make their way down the very crowded hallway. People split to either side of their path, letting them through and we are forced to follow behind them or either be left behind.

  The vest has always been a way for them to show the town who they are and how little they care for their opinions. It’s a silent message of solidarity, boasting of rank and deeds done in the name of the club. The skull on the vests’ back wearing a jagged smile is a grim hint of the personalities and attitudes held within and how they are not afraid to face life, no matter where it may take them. The one silver tear on its cheek serves as a reminder of those who have come and gone. The black eye patch with the 1% in its center reminds the MC it is “an eye for an eye” world of theirs. The double guns behind the skull lets each member know no one stands alone as long as they are standing with their brothers. The black, leather vest is as much of a way to bind them together, as it is a way to keep them apart and that is exactly the point of wearing it today.

  “J.D.,” Aimes whispers, with a hiss when we reach the shelter of the closed stairwell, “what are you doing?”

  “Why, I am walking down the stairs, Sweetheart,” he calls back to her, ignoring the real question she has asked him.

  “What’s up with the vests?” she clarifies, not letting him slip away so easily.

  “We can’t all look good in just a towel.” J.D. still avoids her question and we both know he will not answer us.

  “I think we need to see how well the girls look in one.” Rhett does answer though, still unwilling to let our game go.

  “Looking to lose again?” I bait him, just to see his smile again. “I’ll lose to you any day,” he says, and I earn my prize.

  “What about all night?” I ask.

  I watch Lawless miss a step and I smile as he tries to hide it. It feels as good as if I had pushed him with my hands, not my words.

  I don’t know what Rhett may have said as his answer. J.D. gives the man a look, silencing Rhett and his smile melts from his lips. Aimes looks to me with the curiosity of it. I shrug to her. I refuse to play with their hidden plot lines anymore. If sexually teasing Rhett will help me get through the next few hours, then by the end of the day we both may be in desperate need to visit the weight room.

  Ross is waiting for us in the courtyard with his high wattage smile. He leans against my truck with Chapel watching us head their way. Chapel looks to me when he notices the dress code of the men before me. Aimes and I shrug, letting him know we are not on the “need to know” list about their agendas and our annoyance over the fact.

  J.D. tosses something to Chapel, never stopping to talk to the man. “Get dressed,” he says over his shoulder without a hint of compassion or anger.

  Chapel unfolds the bunched fabric to find his leather vest in his hands. The emotions washing over his face fold over and onto themselves while looking at such a simple piece of clothing. He glances to the men who file past h
im, each patting him on his shoulder or his chest as they pass before he slips on the matching leather.

  I am confused as to what he feels at this moment as the men show him signs of camaraderie or at what point J.D. stripped him of his vest removing the same link. The men who we have drawn our lines against, and circled the wagons from, are now welcoming Chapel home. Something clicks for him with their renewed brotherhood, setting a different tone to his posture. For the first time, I see how much it has cost Chapel to be on the outside of their circle jerk, even if he does not agree with their actions.

  “Man down,” Aimes says to me with disappointment, as we watch Chapel rejoin the group who mingles around their dark warhorses.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” I try to reassure her. The sight of Leslie running toward them removes any hopes I may have tried to hold over what today will bring.

  “Where to?” I ask Ross, ignoring the scene in front of us.

  “I’ll show you,” Ross says. His smile may still be bright, but his voice does not match the wattage.

  “Something wrong, Ross?” Aimes asks him, noticing the difference in him as well.

  “No. Not at all. We’re good!” he says to us a little too perky and a little too clipped.

  His voice is a little too forced. His smile is a bit too big. Either we are making him very nervous or he is hiding something.

  I look to Aimes to gather her ideas on the topic. She makes a face at me, exposing her suspicions. We have both come to a similar conclusion he is hiding something from us. The day just keeps getting better, and with his smile, brighter. When Marxx glances at me over the shoulder of Lawless, I suspect Ross isn’t the only one hiding something. Revving my truck’s deep engine to hurry the men up, I’m ready to twirl a certain finger with the joy of it all.