by Jc Emery
“Good job,” Holly says. “You just had to piss her off.”
“Just wait, Sweets,” I say as I pull the SUV into the parking garage and find an empty spot. “Few months, it’s gonna be even. No more unfairly ganging up on me.”
Climbing out, I round the back of the vehicle quickly. Charlie is still wailing in the backseat like her world has ended. Sweets gets pissed if I don’t get to her quick enough these days. Fucking temperamental. No wonder our daughter is so prone to throwing temper tantrums. Holly’s door is open, and she’s facing me when I walk up. Sliding forward to the edge of the seat, she finds her footing on the side running board. She takes my hands and lets me shoulder the burden of the extra weight as she steps down. Her rounded belly bumps my gut as she finds her footing.
“Careful with this thing,” I say and place my hands on her stretched flesh just inches above where my son rests. I won’t officially meet him for another few months, but I’m already planning on us leveling the playing field. Leaning in, I give her a quick kiss and a wink. Holly’s hormones are all over the place these days–even so much as a wink can set her off, and do I ever enjoy the rewards when they set her in the right direction.
I retrieve Charlie from her car seat and expertly get her stroller out with my free hand. She quiets her screaming, but kicks against my side. Now I know Chey was not this difficult as a baby. I can only hope that Charlie’s teen years are less dramatic than Chey’s were. There’s a learning curve and it takes some maneuvering, but now that I’m used to having a baby in the house again, I’m like a fucking superhero. I can do just about anything with one hand and three hours sleep. Good thing, too, because when baby James is born, I know I’m going to be functioning on a lot less.
Holly grabs the diaper bag from the floorboard and shuts the door behind me as I stick the scream queen into her stroller. She grabs at the handles and pushes her way through the crowded parking garage. I let out a frustrated breath and shake my head. Jim should have been here today. Asshole. Everybody else made it. Just about. Obviously Chief couldn’t make it.
We take the elevator to the lobby of the hotel. Right when we step off, a large sign directs us to the grand ballroom where graduation’s being held. I couldn’t be more proud of my girl today. She’s graduating from culinary school with a degree that specializes in desserts and shit. It’s been two long years that she’s been here in the Bay Area. Even if she does make it home every chance she gets, it’s just not enough. She was a great kid and a fun teenager, but now? She’s incredible.
She only has one flaw.
He’s six-foot-three with brown hair and navy blue eyes. He’s a fucking asshole who gets worse with every passing day and the cut he wears only enables that behavior. I’m proud to call him my brother, but fuck if I don’t want to call him my son. And he’s standing in the doorway to the ballroom wearing dark blue jeans, a gray short-sleeve shirt that shows his tattoos, and his Forsaken cut. He’s started to grow out a goatee, but it’s not much yet. The shit he’s done for the club reminds me that he is man enough to care for my girl. I’m just bitter about the fact that she’s old enough to have a man who’s not me care for her.
She loves him.
It’s been rocky, and he’s fucked up in ways that—I think—entitle me to take him out.
But she loves him.
“Deep breaths, baby,” Holly says from up ahead. “Either that or your brain is going to explode.”
Baby Boy gives me a nod as he bends down to poke Charlie in her belly. She lets out a loud laugh and kicks her feet. Even she likes him. Traitor.
“Grady,” he says. “Can we talk?”
No.
“Yeah,” I say. Holly looks back real quick, but then turns around and keeps walking into the ballroom. There are rows and rows of chairs in front of a small, elevated stage. If Baby Boy is here, then the rest of the hooligans must be here as well.
We walk down the hall and out onto the street. He flexes his jaw a few times and blows out a breath. He’s nervous. Good. Asshole.
“Wanna do it right this time,” he says.
Prick.
“She’s pissed,” I say.
He nods his head and says, “I know.”
“I should have water-boarded your ass for that shit last time.”
“You’d of had the right to,” he says. “Happens in the future? Do it.”
I don’t know when this cocksucker grew a spine, but he did. The club’s good for a lot of things, and unfortunately, one of those things is teaching mouthy boys how to be men.
Goddamn it.
“I got your blessing?” he asks.
Yeah, he does. But fuck if I’m gonna make it that easy on the motherfucker.
I reach out and grab him by the back of his neck. He doesn’t fight me nor does he blink. He’s a rock, just like his dad. That old bastard should be around here somewhere. I squeeze as hard as I can knowing I’m going to leave a nasty bruise. I hope it lasts for at least a week. His jaw tenses, but that’s the only indication that I’m hurting him. Leaning in, I shove my chest against his. My words come out as a hiss.
“I don’t give a fuck how much shit you’ve done for your patch. Doesn’t matter how many people you’ve seen suffer and die, no matter how much vengeance you’ve dealt—you ain’t seen or experienced shit until you’ve hurt my little girl. This is your one fucking chance—your last fucking chance. Be the man she needs. Anything less and you’re dead.”
“Yes, Sir,” he says as steady and cool as can be. Only two reasons a man in his position isn’t angry or flustered by this. He’s either completely insane, or he’s completely in love.
And fuck me if I’m not grateful that if this shit has to happen, it’s with him. Not that I like the prick or anything.
I release him with a violent flip of my wrist. He stumbles a bit, but then straightens his back and lifts his chin. We walk back into the ballroom and join our family. Basically is here—most of us have been in the city for a day or two now since it’s quite a trip. Duke and Nic stand with Holly. Their daughter, Robin, who is two now, stands in front of Charlie’s stroller and is talking with her. I never know what the fuck they’re trying to say to each other, but I’m damn sure they’re conspiring. Alex and Ryan are close by. Took him long enough, but he finally told her she’s gonna marry him. Guess she said yes, judging by the size of the rock on her finger. Ian is talking to Ruby, and I think Elle’s supposed to show up at some point. She said she might have to work, but I can’t keep track of her schedule. Diesel isn’t showing, which is fine. Jim not showing chaps my ass, but what the fuck am I gonna do about it? Asshole. Wyatt is already seated with Mindy by his side and Butch a few chairs down. My mom is on Mindy’s other side, but when she spots Holly, she taps Mindy’s shoulder and they get up and go to love on the babies. Women.
An announcer starts the ceremony, and we all scramble to find seats in the limited space. There’s plenty of standing room, so I opt for standing behind Holly’s chair. My mom sits next to her with Charlie in her lap.
Baby Boy comes to stand next to me. Robin is standing on Duke’s lap and jumping up and down to reach her uncle. I still don’t know what the fuck it is about girls and this prick. Without even looking back, Duke lifts her over his head and Jeremy takes her. She rests comfortably in his arms and places her head on his shoulder.
My brain is assaulted with images of the bastard with his own kid. My stomach rolls violently. The pot brownies I ate last night aren’t sitting right with me all of a sudden.
The ceremony drags on with the only highlight being when Chey takes the stage. She’s dressed in her white uniform with black shoes and her chef’s hat. She looks like the Pillsbury dough boy—silly as hell. But she wanted this, and she’s good at it. I’m proud of her for doing this. She made a hard choice, one I’m not sure I would have made, and it’s paying off. Once they get through the list of the graduates, there are a few closing words, and then the kids toss their chef’s hats in the
air. When everybody stands to cheer on the graduates, I lean down and ease Holly up.
Wrapping my arms around her, I whisper in her ear, “Can’t believe she’s grown.” She nods and tears up as Chey approaches us. I step out into the aisle to give her a hug. She’s still a good twenty feet away, but I want to be first. Jeremy steps out beside me and her eyes dart between us. Robin is off with Duke once more. Chey gives Jeremy a wink and picks up her pace until she’s running. He’s her guy now, I remind myself. Dear Old Dad is second fiddle. My shoulders slump, and I give her a sad smile.
She runs faster, and in a second, her smile gets so wide that I swear it could light up the fucking room. She slams into me with such force that I stumble backward. I’m winded, having not expected the hug, but wrap my arms around her tightly. He may be her man, but for now, in this moment, I still get to be daddy. I let myself pretend she’s just graduating kindergarten and we have many more years of these hugs in our future. I’m fooling myself, I know.
She lets go and wraps her arms around Jeremy. It’s not a long hug because once Holly waddles out with Charlie on her hip, Chey’s attention is diverted. She gives them both a hug, but then snatches her baby sister and gives her kiss after kiss on her cheek.
“I don’t care how old I get,” Chey says to Charlie who, as always, is absolutely mesmerized by her big sister. “You’re always going to have to share Dad and Holly with me. Got it?”
Charlie kicks her feet out and reaches for the collar of Chey’s shirt. She’s been practicing it for weeks now, and I’ll admit, I’m a bit jealous, but Charlie gets to work on saying sis. She’s already got mama and dada down, but sissy is her new favorite. I wish Chief could see this. My two girls, each with a piece of him—one with his tribe and one with his first name—for him to spoil.
Chey walks off with Charlie and Jeremy to make the rounds of thanking everyone who came. It’s a big deal when one of our own graduates from something, especially higher education.
Mindy walks up and gives Holly a hug. Both of the Mercer women have come a long way from where they once were. You’d never know the horrors they faced just from looking at them. Mindy still struggles, but she’s got her sixty-day chip right now, so she’s back on track.
Holly worked through her own demons for the most part, but it was touch and go for a while there. I close the distance between us. Through the sheer sleeve of her top, the butterfly tattoo that rests on her shoulder blade peeks through. She used to fear butterflies once, and they still ick her out, she says. But her tattoo is a testament to her strength. My Old Lady doesn’t let her fear control her. She looks it in the eye and gives it the middle finger. She’s always been that fearless though, even when she didn’t know it.
Chey swings by and drops Charlie in to my arms. Charlie smacks her tiny little lips in my face and giggles uncontrollably. I can’t wait to see what kind of big sister she’s going to be. I place a gentle kiss to her cheek and savor this time I have with her. Before I know it, she’s going to be all grown up and some asshole is going to fall in love with her. I wrap my free arm around Holly and take a deep breath.
“You look a little too happy there, bud. How many brownies did you eat?” Holly asks teasingly. My woman’s always been beautiful, but the more time I have with her, the deeper I find that beauty goes. She’s the mom Layla couldn’t be. She’s the rock I need. She’s a soft place for me to fall. She’s protective and loyal and bossy as all fucking hell. I just hope I can be those things for her in return. Nothing I ever do will be enough to make us even.
“Not enough,” I admit. “I’m just happy.”
She leans in and nibbles on my ear while whispering, “Get someone to watch Charlie later. I want a little time alone with you.”
“You offering to suck my dick?” I ask. My mood perks up at the idea.
“If you’re good, I might let you massage my feet,” she says and places a kiss to my neck. I pull her in closer to my side and let myself breathe easy and be content for this moment. After everything we’ve been through and all the pain we’ve suffered, we’re in a good place now.
Solid.
Safe.
The End
Author’s Note
Unfortunately, sexual assault isn’t just a fancy plot device. It happens frequently and the statistics are horrifying. The only way we can seek to prevent/limit future assaults is through education and awareness. No organization is better equipped to do both than RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network). For more information on RAINN, please visit rainn.org. If you are in need of help, or know someone who may be, please contact RAINN’s free, anonymous helpline: 1(800) 656-HOPE.
Please take a moment to check them out and thanks for letting me interrupt your regularly scheduled fiction.
Thanks,
JC
Crush (Bayonet Scars, No. 4)
YOUNG LOVE IS ALWAYS PERFECT. UNTIL IT’S NOT.
Cheyenne Grady is a total daddy’s girl to her badass father, the sergeant at arms of the Forsaken Motorcycle Club. She’s funny and kind, and she just wants that deep, earth-shattering love like her dad has with her school secretary, Holly. But Cheyenne’s been looking in the wrong direction, because the only good that can come from the way she looks at Jeremy Whelan is a lesson in heartbreak.
Jeremy always wanted to prospect for the Forsaken Motorcycle Club and wear the same patch as his father. When a life-long dream becomes reality, Jeremy realizes that the outlaw lifestyle is not for the faint of heart. Nor is it easy on relationships. He wants to be a good man, but temptation is everywhere.
Cheyenne is beautiful and strong and exactly what Jeremy could have forever. As long as he doesn’t screw it up.
Love is never more powerful than the first time.
Dedication
Mom—thank you. Always.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
July
21 months to Mancuso’s downfall
Jeremy
I NEVER FEEL more at home than I do right here on Forsaken land. The black vinyl inserts in the high-as-hell chain link fence that surrounds the compound have the word FORSAKEN painted across them in ten-foot high white lettering. Everywhere they can, the club’s marked this property. Even if one day Forsaken no longer calls this spot home, their mark will remain. After a small fire that was started, due to no fault of my own, Dad and Jim had to repair and repaint one of the picnic tables. They knew how it started, and instead of laying into me, Dad gave me a knife and told me to mark that table as my own. Beneath the table top, in the fucked up scratch marks of a seven-year-old’s handiwork, is JEREMY WAS HERE. I don’t get to come by as often as I’d like, but every chance I get, I sit at that table. In a way, it makes me feel closer to my dad. I’d go there now, but there’s a crowd around my table watching two of the brothers fight it out.
Nobody’s paying attention to me, which is the way I like it. People pay too much attention and they start asking questions. I slip past the crowd and around to the line of Harleys backed up against the fence. There’s really no order to the way the brothers park in the lot except that they try to make it as easy as possible to get out in a moment’s notice. I don’t recognize all the bikes here. Some of them are familiar, like Ryan’s bike
that he’s had custom painted with obsessive detailing that nobody else seems to see but him. Next to Ryan’s bike, on the very end, is Duke’s. Duke patched in before Dad went to prison, and he’s always been good to me. I like the guy and all, but his bike is boring as shit.
I scan the crowd and find the fight is still going on. Taking advantage of the moment, I run my hand along the gas tank of the black Harley. I’d really like to get my hands on Ryan’s bike, but he has this thing about people’s asses and his dick, so I’ll just stay over here with Duke’s. Duke won’t say it because he’s Forsaken and he’s not a fucking pussy, but I know he lets me hang around the clubhouse because of my sister, Nic. Even before they hooked up, he let me do shit I know Dad would beat me for. Usually I’ll just casually ask him if he’s seen Nic anywhere like I’m there for her. I think he caught on that I was full of shit at some point, but as long as I feed him information, he lets me hang out. He even had a Lost Girl show me how to properly feel up a chick once. That was pretty badass.
The seat of Duke’s bike is worn. Its cracks show a seat that has seen a lot of miles with its rider. Dad says when he gets out he’s going to hook me up and get me a bike. I can’t wait. More than anything, I just want to learn how to ride. I want to earn my cut and sit in Church with these guys. Dudes like me, who don’t know shit about books and fucking hate math, only got a few choices in life. But even if I was book smart, I’d still want this. The brotherhood is deeper than family and survives shit most relationships never could. I know my sister loves me, and she does the best she can, but I don’t think I’ll ever really know my father and feel like I belong somewhere until I’m one of his brothers. I lower myself onto the seat of the bike and lean up against it. I know better, and I don’t care. For just a moment, I want to know what this feels like.