Bound by Desire (Ravage MC Bound Series Book Two)

by Ryan Michele

  She was only fifteen when I left home and still innocent to so much in life. Even when I was fucked up on dope, she was always on my radar. I made sure she was okay. There is nothing I won’t do to keep my sister safe.

  When I made the decision to leave, it killed me to leave her, knowing I was abandoning her in a way. Knowing that, when I left that house, her life would be forever changed. But in the end, it was best for all of us. Even then, I’ll do anything in my power to protect her.

  “Yeah?”

  She lets out a huff. “You could at least say hello.”

  “No.”

  “Nice to talk to you, too, asshole.” I hear her moving on the other end, like she’s rolling on a bed or something. Then another huff comes over the line.

  Not that I intend on being a dick, it’s just who I am now. She knows this. She accepts it.

  “Talk, Emery.” When the coffee pot beeps, I pour myself a cup, then sit on the bench at my small table.

  “I’m dropping out of school,” she lays out on me like a bomb exploding.

  She’s too damn smart to just give up. And one thing Emery isn’t is a quitter. She doesn’t give up on shit easily. Hell, as many times as our conversations ended up only being a few words, she still puts up with my ass. There’s no way that after our parents forced it down her that she was going to college she’d just drop out. She’s never been one to disappoint our parents. Nothing about this is in Emery’s usual nature. There must be something else going on.

  Time to get to the truth of the matter. “The fuck you are. What’s the problem?”

  “Wow, you can actually speak sentences. Good job.” She’s always been a smartass. It shouldn’t make me happy to hear it, but it does. Even under these circumstances, she reminds me at times that I do give a shit. At least with what happens in her life.

  “Emery …” I warn, a billion and one things going through my head. Is she hurt? I’ll gut the bastards. Is she pregnant? Again, I’ll gut the bastard.

  “Fine. I suck at this. The classes are super hard, and I’m getting bad grades in two of the classes.” She sighs between her rambling. “Mom and Dad are going to flip their shit when they find out. I just don’t think this is for me.”

  I’m sure her classes are hard compared to high school, but she can hack it. She’s been on the honor roll more times than I remember. Besides, everything in life is hard; it’s what you do with it that matters. Choices are hard, and this one doesn’t need to be rash.

  I play it easy.

  “Alright.”

  “Alright? Did you really just say alright to me, Deacon Alexander?” she yells into the line, shocked by my answer. Good, that’s what I was aiming for.

  “Yeah, you wanna quit and be a quitter, that’s on your shoulders.”

  “Quitter? I am not a quitter!” she shouts across the line, and I try not to chuckle. She’s too easy.

  “Yep, givin’ up your first year without givin’ it a shot. So, what now? You’re goin’ home? You gonna work at X, too?”

  X is a strip club the Ravage MC owns. My aunt Princess runs the place, but there is no way in hell she’d hire Emery. Still, I need to get a rise out of her.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Something crashes on the other side of the line.

  One thing that runs in our family is our temper. My father has a hell of a one. Me, I take mine out in the cage. Emery, she hasn’t exactly figured out her way yet. Except for throwing things, that is. Even after four years, she’s still the same.

  “But you’re quittin’ school.” The statement is meant to be harsh, and she obviously takes it that way.

  “What, like you quitting the family?” she charges back, giving it to me tenfold. Not much hits me or gets me down anymore. Those words, though, strike a direct hit.

  “Didn’t quit …” My words trail off because, in a way, I did, not that I had a fuck of a lot of choice.

  “Coulda fooled me. You haven’t even been back for Christmas. Christmas, Deke? I mean, really?”

  Setting my cup down on the table, I rest my elbows on it, looking down at the chipped wood. Darkness fills me. It eats at me and claws its way to the surface. I try to push it down, but it does no good. Instead, it festers.

  Emery has no fucking clue. None. She has no goddamned idea what I gave up for her, our parents, and the fucking MC that I was never good enough to be a part of. Every damn want I had in my life, I tossed to the side … for them. Fuck, I shouldn’t even care anymore, but when she says shit like that, it cuts deep.

  Instead of continuing the path of this conversation, I change it. “So, you quittin’ school or what?”

  “Like you give a shit,” she grumbles, and I lose it.

  They can all think what the fuck they want about me, but not her. Anyone can say I’m a bastard, a dick, or a fuckwad, but for my sister to question my concern, my care, or my fucking loyalty … it’s a time bomb about to blow.

  “Yeah, I do give a fuckin’ shit! You’re too goddamned smart to drop out. You keep your ass there, get that fucking piece of paper, and make something of your damn self, Emery. You don’t need Mom, Dad, me, or that club. You can do it all your fuckin’ self.”

  She sniffles over the phone. Fuck, I hate when I make her cry, but she needs someone to knock some damn sense into her.

  I take a calming breath. Even when she was a baby, I could never stand to see her cry. It’s not in my makeup or something. I’ve never wanted Emery to feel a single ounce of pain. This shit she’s spewing about dropping out of school, well, as much as this conversation hurts her now, it’s going to be worth it when she gets through.

  I drop the animosity in my tone and make sure to give my sister the comfort she needs. “Emery, you’re smart and have a great head on your shoulders—use it. Dropping out isn’t an option, so suck it up and deal. You need a fuckin’ tutor to help you, tell me and I’ll send you the money for it. You need help from a teacher, I’ll do that, too. But you’re not quittin’ and goin’ home.”

  “Deke …” she whispers in my ear with a crack in her voice. “I don’t know anyone here, which means, if I’m not at class, I’m in my dorm room. My roommate and I don’t get along, and I just hate it here.” At least I’m getting down to the nitty-gritty of the problem—friends.

  “Isn’t Micah there with you?” Micah is Tug and Blaze’s son. Tug is a brother in the Ravage MC, and Blaze is his ol’ lady. Micha is the same age as Emery. Hell, I think Emery picked this school to go with Micah and not be alone.

  It’s no secret that my sister has had a crush on him since she could walk. Lucky for Micah, he hasn’t shown any interest in her that way. Otherwise, I’d have to pound his ass into the ground. Still, Micah is Emery’s family. My sister should not feel alone when she has family.

  “I’m not talking about him.” She huffs in a way that tells me not all is well in their little world. Tough shit. Life sucks.

  “What.” It’s not a question; it’s more of a demand for her to talk.

  A long pause comes over the line, and I hear her sniffle again.

  “He has a girlfriend.”

  Hell, didn’t exactly see that one coming. Back when I was home, Micah never kept his head out of a damn video game long enough to notice my sister was even there. He used to run into fucking walls because of it. Not to mention he made it clear he hated the club. That did not sit well with anyone.

  Born Ravage, die Ravage, that is something you don’t question. Micah, though, he just didn’t seem fazed in the slightest by the club life. While guys like Cooper, me, and even Nox made plans in our heads about what it would be like to have our cuts, Micah only seemed to care about the next level on his game. His future was never about Ravage, even if it was in his blood.

  “His loss.”

  She hiccups. Damn, she needs to call Austyn, our cousin, for this girl shit. I am not cut out for it.

  “Emery, you need to meet some friends to hang out with. There has to be a chick in one of
your classes that you can start talking to.” Listen to me giving my sister advice on how to make friends. Regardless, she’s the one damn person on this planet I’d do anything for. Even go up and pound Micah’s damn face in for being an idiot.

  “It just sucks.”

  I have no doubt that it does, considering she’s been surrounded by her family for her entire life. And I’m not talking me and our parents. No, I’m talking about the entire Ravage MC and their kids. There was always someone around to hang out with. You never had to be alone, unless you wanted to. Especially the girls. They were kept in a protective bubble of a sort, yet taught how to handle themselves. Meeting new people is out of her comfort zone.

  If I closed my eyes right now, I could go back in time to when it was easy. I won’t, but I could.

  Growing up there started off well, but it didn’t end that way for me. My choices came with deep consequences, the life altering kind. For Emery, it’s a huge adjustment that she needs to suck up and get used it to. Her strength will sustain her. It’s one of the reasons my parents wanted her to go away to school. They wanted her to be independent and able to take care of herself. I can see that. Now, she just needs to deal.

  “Yep, but you’ve got this, Emery. I have every bit of faith in you.” I mean every fucking word of it, too. I believe in my sister. She has smarts, strength, and loyalty. She can get through this and come out better on the other side.

  “Thank you,” she says softly. “I want to see you, Deke.”

  Four years of only talking on the phone, and she says the same thing during every conversation. As much as it guts me, I can’t. I can’t go back there. None of them understand, and I’m not about to explain it.

  “Someday,” I say, giving her the response I always do.

  “Yeah, someday. Bye, Deke.” She hangs up before I can say bye, and an ache in my chest forms. Tossing the phone to the table with a clatter, I run my hands through my hair.

  Even if I could go back, being the man I am today, my father wouldn’t accept me. Not only did I leave abruptly, but even before that, I wasn’t good enough.

  “You need to get your shit together,” my father says, standing in the doorway to my bedroom. He’s been on my ass lately because of my report card. I only got one F. It’s not like they were all that way. Hell, I even got an A in class of them so that balances shit out.

  “It’s good, Dad.”

  His face grows stern, not angry, but in the way his cheekbones protrude and his eyes get focused. This always leads to bad shit.

  “Good?” He steps into the room and closes the door. “You call getting a fucking F in Science good?”

  “It’s only been a quarter. I’ll bring it up.”

  “Yeah, you fuckin’ will bring it up. Until then, your ass is grounded to this room and chores whenever your mom or I say so.”

  This isn’t a surprise. Doesn’t mean I’ll stay in my room, either. I’ve become the master of getting out of this room.

  “Fine.”

  “I should smack some fuckin’ sense into ya,” he grumbles, leaving. “Gonna be the one who tests us all,” he mutters on the way down the hall.

  It’s not until much later that I open the door to my room and listen, thinking everyone is asleep. How wrong I am.

  “What are we going to do?” my mother asks in a soft voice.

  “Fuck, I don’t know. That boy’s goin’ down the wrong path. It’s mostly teenage shit, but the grades and dickin’ off at school … Beatin’ him isn’t gonna work.”

  “No, you are not beating our son,” my mother says, and I smile. She always defends me on pretty much everything.

  “Wish he grew up to be more like Cooper. Have his head on straight and have some damn direction. He’s not gonna make it. Why can’t he just follow the path Cooper did? As much time as they used to spend together, thought for sure he’d be alright. It’s a shame.” My father’s words make the pit of my stomach fall out as the ground beneath me disappears.

  I’m not good enough.

  I’m a fuck up.

  He wishes I was like Cooper, not me.

  My father would be shocked as hell to find out the man I’ve become over the last four years. Not just Deacon Alexander Gavelson, master mechanic, but Mastermind, the hold nothing back fighter with balls of fucking steel. Too bad he’ll never see it.

  He’ll never know the strength it took inside me to walk away and not come back. He’ll never know the broken pieces lost long before I ever had my first high. He’s never going to know a damn thing about me and the man I’ve become.

  Feeling the need to pound on something, I head to the gym.

  Chapter Four

  “Motherfucker,” Charlie spouts off as he lies on the floor from the kick to the gut I just gave him.

  I try hard not to laugh, but a smile still tugs at my lips.

  I’ve fought since I can remember. My parents used to call me a scrapper. I laugh inside at the thought. If they could only see me now. It was bad before. Then their deaths only pushed me more. Things just got worse when I lived with Cunt Bitch, taking it to a fever pitch. Or maybe better, considering my skills have improved. Guess it’s the way you look at it.

  “Now I bet you’re pissed you trained me so well,” I chide, holding out my hand. He takes it, and I help him to his feet.

  “If I weren’t so fuckin’ proud of you, I’d be pissed.” He slaps me on the back as we make our way over to the bench in the gym and take a seat.

  I did set him down pretty hard, and he is getting older. Not that he’s out of shape. He’s more on the stocky side, but with a lot of muscle. His hair is more salt than pepper, but he’s still got the moves.

  He’s been training me since I landed my ass here. I actually found him because of Schade. Somehow, we just clicked.

  “Right.” With a roll of my eyes, I grab the water bottle and down half of it as sweat pours from my body. Workouts with Charlie always end up with me drenched. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Surprised you’re not workin’ tonight.”

  “Tomorrow. Supposedly, some hotshot is coming in, so we have to be on the up and up.”

  Schade always pays well, but when a big fighter comes to town, he pays better. That’s because the guy usually has boys who come with him. Those boys usually start something, or one of our regulars starts something with them. Newbies don’t get the welcome carpet.

  If they make Schade money, though, he doesn’t give a fuck who goes in the ring. Me, I find it quite entertaining.

  “Nice. Maybe I’ll come check it out.” He shrugs like it won’t throw a fuck of a wrench in my work.

  “Nah, I’ll be too focused on keepin’ your ass safe. Can’t do my job.”

  “Me safe?” His hand flies to his chest. “Sweetheart, if you can tell by the ring, I can hold my own.”

  Inside, I smile. “Know that. Just don’t want any distractions. Pulls me off my game.”

  He chuckles then downs his water. “Your game is fine.”

  “Whatever.”

  Charlie is going to do what he wants, so I let it go. There’s no reason to argue with him.

  “You wanna come over for dinner tonight?”

  “Can’t tonight. I’m goin’ out with some of the girls.”

  His brow quirks. “You actually have girlfriends?”

  I bump his shoulder. “Shut it, ol’ man.”

  “Who’re you callin’ old?” He chuckles.

  Most men would have their pride hit from the barb, but not Charlie. He’s man enough to roll with it, and that’s what I like about him. He’s a calm in the storm I call life. When I needed coping skills, Charlie took me in the ring, in the cage, and move by move, he gave me strength and control at a time when everything was spinning like a tornado.

  “Skyler, Breelyn, and Avery are meeting me. We need to cut loose for a while. Too much testosterone everywhere.”

  “You feed off that shit, so don’t give me that.”

  I
t’s true, so I just chuckle in response.

  He smiles, his eyes softening. “Good to see you goin’ out.”

  He leaves out the “after you caught that dickhead cheating on you,” but he doesn’t need to say the words because I know. Hell, I almost went to jail for sending his balls into his throat and showing the bitch riding him how I solve things. Luckily, Schade has connections in the police department.

  It gutted me at the time, thinking there was something wrong with me. That I wasn’t enough for a man. Then I got wiser. He’s not man enough for me if he pulled a pussy move like that. Fuck him and the horse he rode in on.

  Lance should have been smarter, but he wasn’t, so he paid the price. I’d be surprised if he can have children now. I should get a fucking award for that one. No one needs to have him procreate.

  “Yep, I’m good, Charlie. Really. I’m not pining over him or wishing on a star that he comes back to me. Or any of that fairy-tale bullshit. I’m happy he’s gone and took his trash with him. Still, it’s good to go out.”

  It’s been weeks since I have gone out. Work and training keep me busy. And the girls have lives of their own, too, so finding a time when we could all get together wasn’t manageable until tonight.

  “Good. Now get out of here,” he orders, pointing to the locker room door.

  I laugh, shaking my head as I rise. I have a night to get ready for.

  “Shots!” Skylar shouts over the rumble of music booming out of the speakers in the space. Bimbos’ is a laid-back bar that we enjoy spending time in now and again. There really aren’t a whole lot of choices in Sumner, and we normally don’t want to go outside the city.

  Men and women shake and shimmy on the dance floor, hands in the air with hoot and hollers. Others sit at their tables, nursing whatever concoction they have in front of them. Us, we’re just getting started.

  The waitress comes by, looking at all our faces and plastering a smile on hers. I’m nowhere near as intoxicated as my friends. Drinking isn’t a big thing for me, but being with my friends is. Letting loose for some people is getting inebriated. Me, not so much. I like to keep my attention on everything around me. Some habits don’t die.