RAW: THE ULTIMATE MC COLLECTION
Page 9
“Oh,” I said, “one more thing. Sam doesn’t know I killed that guy. I’d like to keep it that way for a little while.”
Zander looked at me curiously, his eyebrows raised.
“What does she think happened?” he asked.
“Well, I’m not sure exactly. I mean, she knows what happened, she just doesn’t know I put a bullet in his sorry ass.”
“Okay, no problem,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Your call, boss.”
Chair legs scratched the floor as they rose to their feet, trailing back up the stairs one by one.
“Thanks, again, brothers,” I said to their patched backs.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Grace
I had a memory. Finally. And yet, it was completely useless. The houses we looked at online were totally different, and much nicer, than anything I had seen in my dream.
Disappointment filled my heart as I tried to go about my day, hoping something else would come back. Ryder kept trying to make jokes to make me smile, but I was having a hard time and it was taking all my strength not to cry again.
“I’m going to take a walk,” I said to him after lunch.
“You want company, babe?” he asked. I smiled. What use was coming up with a name, I thought. All he called me now that we had slept together was ‘babe’, with the occasional ‘darlin’ or ‘sweetie’ thrown in. We were in his room and in between trailing our hands all over each other and making out like teenagers, I was trying to find a way to put my head back in the space it was in earlier.
It was so frustrating knowing all my memories were in there, they were just locked away from me when I needed them the most.
“Sure,” I said, kissing him, touching his face, running my hands along his cut as we lay on his bed together. Reluctantly, I untangled myself from him and sat up and put on those boots again.
“Maybe I should shop for some clothes,” I said, before I realized I had absolutely no money. I felt my heart beat increase as the familiar panic reared up. I took a deep breath, and stood up, pulling him with me.
“Never mind, I can’t afford it right now,” I said.
He stood up, wrapping his arms around me and smiling down at me.
“That’s alright, babe. I’ll be your sugar daddy,” his eyes twinkled.
“Oh, yeah?” I said. “I guess I could use one of those. It’s a deal,” I said. “What do I have to do in return?” I asked teasingly, pressing my breasts into him.
“You’re already doing it, beautiful,” he replied. “And very well, I might add.” He brushed his lips against mine, grabbed my hand and led me out the door.
The sun was shining as we walked out of the house. Zander and Valerie, who I had met at lunch, were just leaving, both of them wrapped in leather and straddling Zander’s very loud, very large bike. Valerie had taken Cherry’s place as the clubhouse cook at lunch, and Cherry was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t ask about her, but I was grateful not to have to deal with another awkward scene.
They waved at us, and roared off down the road, dirt kicking up behind them as they disappeared around the curve.
“Have they been together a long time?” I asked Ryder. He was still holding my hand, and we walked down the steps and took off down the road.
“Sure have. Been fucking forever. As long as I’ve known Zander, he’s had Valerie by his side. She’s a good old lady,” he replied, nodding his head approvingly.
“What makes a good old lady?” I asked, slightly amused. There was definitely a bit of a misogynistic scene going on here, but everyone seemed to accept it, I noticed.
“Well, I guess my idea of what makes a good old lady might be different than what most of the brothers would think,” he said. “I like a lady who’s a little more independent, a little more assertive, than what some of them are used to.”
I nodded my head, falling a little in love with his head, in addition to his body.
“If I were to have an old lady, that is,” he finished, his words hastily said, like an old habit.
“You’ve never had one? I find that hard to believe. You’re so…,” I paused, searching for the right words, “virile.”
He smiled.
“Well, being…virile, as you put it…is different than having an old lady. I had one once. Julie. A long, long time ago. But she died. I’ve kinda sworn off relationships since then.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ryder,” I said. “How did she die?"
“Car accident. We had just gotten married. It was over before it could begin.” His eyes clouded over with pain, and I didn’t know what to say. “Twenty years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
“It’s okay, like I said, it was long ago. I’m just not the old man type, that’s all,” he said.
“Right. Right.” I got it. I did. And I was on the same page. Sure, he was fucking sexy as hell. Sure, making love to him had touched something deep inside of me, but I had no choice, and we both knew it - I had bigger fish to fry than Ryder.
I had to either remember something else, or I had to keep searching. Something had to give. I couldn’t just stay here interrupting his life. I’m sure he had things to do, as well. I wasn’t sure what that was, and to be honest, I was afraid to ask. He already told me they were outlaws - that was why he couldn’t go to the cops with me. I understood. I had no choice but to understand, and to be entirely grateful for him at the same time. By what he told me, if he hadn’t shown up when he did, that man would have killed me. Instead of….
Instead of what?
“What did you do to get him to leave?” I asked Ryder quietly, still not sure I wanted to know the answer. He stopped walking, the quickest hesitation, and then began again.
He looked out over the trees as he answered, avoiding my eyes as I tried to catch his gaze.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, how did you get him to stop beating me? You never said. You just said you showed up. Did he just run when he saw you? Or, what?”
“I, um…,” he hesitated, his jaw twitching.
“I mean, I’m so thankful you did, don’t get me wrong. I was just wondering. Did you get in a good hit before he left? He’s probably out there with a limp or a black eye…” my voice trailed off as I tried to imagine the scene.
“Yeah, I hit him,” he said, his hand tightening around mine. I pulled it up, kissing his palm and looking over at him.
“Thank you,” I said, leaning into him, loving his sturdiness, his warmth, his strength.
He was solid. I needed that.
“I don’t know what to do now,” I said, as we continued walking. “I wish I could force the memories somehow.”
He let go of my hand, putting his arm around me, and holding me close. Our steps fell into synch, our hips moving together as we walked.
“There’s no hurry, Sam. No hurry at all. You just let it come naturally, and don’t worry about a thing. It’ll come when it’s supposed to.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said, sighing against his chest. His vest was smooth and cool against my cheek.
“Everything’s going to be okay, babe, I promise,” he said.
We walked in silence for another hour before heading back to the clubhouse. I was hoping for another flash of a memory, but nothing came. Just the same loop I had seen in my dream, over and over.
I stopped when we got back to the clubhouse, and turned to face him.
“Ryder,” I said, “you’ve been so good to me. I feel like I’ve known you forever. Whatever happens, I want you in my life. I know that much.”
He smiled, his hand resting on my waist and pulling me in for a kiss.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ryder
“I found something.”
Riot was pacing around like a lion when we walked back into the clubhouse. The sun was beginning to set and the rays of light streaming into the house were filled with dust, and casting shadows on the hardwood floor.
“What?�
� I asked.
“Another house. I looked up 605 NE 52nd Boulevard instead of Street. I found another hit. It’s in Lincoln City.”
Sam squeezed my hand hard as we walked over to the laptop Riot had open on the bar.
“I already pulled up the street view of the house for you,” he said, moving to the side so Sam could see.
When Sam laid eyes on the house, all the color drained from her face.
“That’s it. That’s the house in my dream!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Grace
My knees weakened when I saw the house. As soon as I saw the air conditioner, and the tear right in the middle of the screen door, I knew it was the same house.
It wasn’t bringing back any other memories, but I knew we had found something. My mind began racing again with questions.
Was my father still in that house? How far away was Lincoln City?
“I have to go there,” I said, turning to Ryder. “How far away is it?”
“About an hour,” he said, his eyes filling with concern and worry. “You sure you want to do that? That memory was from decades ago. It’s a long shot that someone there might still know you.”
“A long shot is all I’ve got,” I said. “It’s better than no shot at all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ryder
Sure, I was fucking skeptical, but what was I going to do - say no? Of course not. I would have done anything she wanted. Even if meant losing her. I was prepared for that. Fuck, I was banking on that.
In the back of my mind, I was counting on the fact that she had a husband and kids somewhere waiting for her. I knew she would have to leave eventually. Was I enjoying her completely in the meantime? Hell yes I was. Did I want to do everything to make her happy while I could? Fuck yes.
At the same time, I was doing everything I could to keep my heart locked up, not to let her get under my skin, for that very reason. Well, also because that just wasn’t who I was. Not since Julie.
It was not easy at all. Every single time she flashed those huge green eyes at me, I wanted to save her all over again.
“We can go tomorrow morning,” I said, her face turned up to me, her eyes sparkling with hope. Hope that was most likely going to be dashed to pieces tomorrow.
“Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing my hand, and pressing up against me. My cock hardened, just as it did every time she touched me. I had been in a perpetual state of excitement since she first woke up. I couldn’t get enough of her. All I could think about was getting her back into my bed tonight, and sinking into her again, before she figured out who I was really was and wanted nothing to do with me.
Our conversation during our walk had been a close call. She saved me from having to tell her the truth by changing the subject herself. I could have told her then, hell, I should have, but I knew that the look in her eye, the one I was quickly becoming addicted to every time she looked at me, wouldn’t be there anymore as soon as she found out that I had killed someone.
I don’t know what I was thinking. On one hand, I figured she would remember who she was and leave before she found out the truth about me, but on the other hand, I was entertaining the possibility of her just leaving without finding out at all.
Either way, I knew she was leaving. It’s not like she had chosen to be here anyway. A woman like that would never choose to be with a man like me.
I knew trying to make her happy was completely at odds with all of those other thoughts running around in my head, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I had to see this through to the end. She was like an injured baby bird that I had to make sure found a good home. I couldn’t just release her into the wild, even if I had eliminated her predator.
That night, after we had dinner with the club, and several beers later, we stumbled into my room while the nightly club party was still in full swing. I locked the door behind us, and we tumbled into the bed, kicking off our boots and knocking over beer bottles along the way.
When I finally felt her naked skin against mine, it was paradise. Her skin was like velvet, soft, smooth, and with each twitch and pulse of her body, I became hungrier and hungrier. I sank myself into her, my cock throbbing as I pushed deeper and deeper, our hands, our tongues, our limbs, and fingers, searching to get closer and closer to each other until we shuddered together, coming together, resting and then starting it all over again.
The feeling of being satisfied never came. Not during the first orgasm. And not during the fifth. By the time the sunlight came pouring in my room, we still hadn’t stopped. Sleep wasn’t even on our mind.
This might be the last night we had together.
And we both knew it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Grace
I hopped off Ryder’s bike, pulling off my helmet and faced the dirty white house. It was uglier than in the picture, a lot more run down than in my dream, but it was still there, still standing, if only barely.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Ryder asked, his voice deep and strong behind me. I took a deep breath, trying to find strength in his confidence.
“No,” I replied. “I should do this alone.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll be right here. You just holler if you need me, and I’ll be right there.” He turned off his bike, and propped it up on the kickstand.
I nodded gratefully, my feet carrying me down the cracked sidewalk that led to the front porch. A small driveway lined the yard to my left, and two cars were parked in it. One was covered in rust, its hood up, the right passenger side tire missing, a couple of bricks holding it up under the wheel. A huge empty field of overgrown, dead weeds was on the other side of the driveway. To my right stood another rundown house, and another one after that, all forming a sad line of forgotten dreams.
I turned back, looking back at Ryder one last time. He nodded, smiling to me encouragingly. I couldn’t have been more thankful for him.
Another deep breath and a few more steps and I was standing in front of the porch steps. The air conditioning was on full-blast, just like in my dream. The same river of water was pouring out of it. The porch was littered with trash. Soggy phone books. Beer cans, coke bottles, an old clothes basket. Two black garbage bags filled with something that was leaking a gooey brown liquid out of the bottom. It smelled awful.
I thought about turning back. But I had no choice. I had no other leads. I had to go through with it. I had to at least knock.
I went up the three steps, facing the door. With a shaking fist, I banged on the screen door. It swayed back and forth, barely hanging on one hinge, squeaking loudly. My heart raced, the blood thumping in my ears as it pounded through my veins.
I waited.
Nothing. Nothing but the sound of that damned air conditioner. It was so fucking loud. I raked my hands through my hair. They were clammy, sweaty. I couldn’t stop shaking.
Maybe there wasn’t anyone home.
I began to feel the first twinges of relief.
The door opened.
And as soon as I saw her face, I knew who it was.
My mother.
“Oh, my god!” she squealed, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s you! It’s really you! Oh, honey, come in! Come in!”
I let her guide me through the door, going against every instinct that was screaming inside of me to run the other way. Overwhelmed with confusion, I desperately tried to think clearly. Dozens of flashes of quick memories exploded in my head, but nothing stuck. It was like an old television set that needed the antennae adjusted. Spinning, my childhood memories bombarded me.
And none of it was good. I was dumbfounded.
I walked through the door and stopped, my eyes darting around, trying to adjust to the darkness of the house. It was filled with…stuff. I couldn’t really tell what, but there were things everywhere. Stuffed in every tiny corner, every surface covered with clutter. The smell of dog-shit hit me first, then the sickly sweet smell of rotting trash.
“Oh, baby. Why are you here?” Her voice was laced with an annoyingly high twang. “It’s been so long, my god! I haven't talked to you in over five years, well, my lord, it must have been twice that since I've seen you.”
I let her ramble on, trying to take it all in. Trying to stop the spinning wheel of memories in my head and catch just one to focus on.
“Where’s Dad?” The only words I could form.
She looked confused, and she started shaking her head.
“Well, what’s that, now? Sweetie, now, c’mon baby, you know your Dad died ten years ago. That was the last time I saw you. At his funeral. Well, I’ll be…”
I couldn’t catch my breath. My hand flew to my chest as I tried to focus, to just breath.
“Dead…” I repeated. My intuition kicked into overdrive and everything in my soul told me to leave. But I kept looking around, and the wheel slowed and I started to catch glimpses of scenes in my head.
“Honey, are you okay?” she was looking at me like I was crazy. But suddenly, I knew. I was the only sane one.
I was young again. Running around the house. And there was my sister. I had a sister! But she was on the ground, right there near where my mother was standing now. She was screaming, as her clothes were being ripped off by two boys, our brothers, who were towering over her as she kicked at them.
I blinked, and my gaze traveled down the hallway, knowing exactly what was there.
She was still talking but I couldn’t hear her words anymore. I walked past her, my body seeming to have a mind of its own as it carried me to the end of the hallway, to the door I knew I would find. My door.
My bedroom.
I opened it, and the filth was overwhelming, it was just as cluttered as the rest of the house. Everything was different as I stood here looking at it, but in my mind, it was twenty years ago.