“He likes to keep me on the outside.”
“Maybe he sees you as a threat?”
I shrug my shoulders, turning to make my way inside. “We better go,” I say with a jab of my thumb.
“Sure, man,” he agrees, following me through the door.
“I’ll be down as soon as I’ve checked in with Emily.”
Patting me lightly on the back, I watch him walk down the hall while I make my way up the stairs, skipping steps in an attempt to hurry. Pulling out my key, I push it in the lock, opening the door. My eyes land on Emily, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide.
“Hey,” she says, visibly relaxing, her hand flat against her chest. Sliding from the bed, she steps toward me, arms folded over her chest.
“Hey,” I reply to her welcome, closing the door behind me.
“You found her?” she asks tentatively, her forefinger resting against her lip.
“Yup. Beat the fuck up. Apparently, she was mugged after leaving here.”
“Jesus,” she gasps. “I’m sorry. I kinda feel responsible.”
I shake my head. “This is on me. I should’ve made sure she got home okay.”
“You weren’t to know.” She offers me a small smile.
“Listen,” I say changing the subject. “I gotta go to church. Go eat. The guys will be busy long enough for you to get in and out without anyone causing you any bother.”
Pressing her lips firming together, she lets her eyes drop to the floor. “I know. I guess Silver kinda shook me a little yesterday. Give me a few days and I’m sure I’ll get over it.”
“I’m taking it to the table. Motherfucker won’t get away with toying with you.” I extend my hand, touching her gently on the arm. “On that you have my word.”
“I just gotta toughen up,” she says followed by a nervous laugh, redirecting her line of sight to the floor.
“Well, yeah.” I nod in agreement. “Honey, it’s tough here. You gotta be able to roll with the punches and keep your mouth shut and your head on straight.”
“Straight head. Got it.” Her voice wavers a little and I realize this isn’t going to be easy for her.
“I gotta go,” I rush out, stepping closer and kissing her on the top of her head.
Walking down the stairs, I make my way into the main clubhouse room. In the far- right corner is the door to church. The door is always locked unless we have a meeting. Only patched-in members are allowed in church. No women are allowed to step through the door. We take going to church seriously.
I slowly open the large dark wooden door, heads turning and eyes on me as soon as I’m visible.
“Hey, man,” Zane says with a tip of his chin. The guys around the table chat amongst themselves, each one acknowledging me with either a smile or a small movement of their heads.
“Hey,” I reply, walking around the central table and sliding down into the chair beside Zane. His hand pats my back heavily while my eyes land on the cocksucker I intend to bring down.
“Silver,” I say as I stare at him, my brows drawn together and my nostrils flaring. I want to jump over the table and slice this fucker’s throat. He ain’t no brother of mine.
A small smirk creeps across his face. “Nate,” he says, holding my stare.
“So, where is he?” I ask, holding my hands up as I glance around the room.
“He’ll be here,” Silver snaps.
“How’s the girl?” Jarvis asks, peering around Zane, leaning into me.
“Good. No thanks to him.” I point my finger at the old man Silver who still wears a look of amusement.
“No harm done,” he throws out loosely.
Feeling anger boil inside me I clench my fist, banging it against the table. “No harm done?” I repeat. “I don’t know what sick fucking games you are playing…” I yell, lurching from my seat and leaning over the table. “But your destruction isn’t any good for this fucking club.”
“And what?” he growls, standing up, reaching his arm forward and grabbing the front of my cut. “What you gonna do, little boy?” His lip curls in disgust. Placing my hand over his, I grit my teeth. “Get your fucking hands off me,” I snarl.
The room echoes with voices as the guys shout, trying to calm the situation.
“Let go of him,” Davo coaxes, pulling on Silver’s arm. Loosening the grip he has, I pull, freeing myself from his hands.
“Well if it isn’t Nate’s number one cocksucker. That's twice now, dickless. Twice you’ve jumped to his defense.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Twice you were out of order, man.”
“And who the fuck are you to tell me I’m out of order? I’m the VP of this goddamn club.”
The two men stand face-to-face. “And don’t we know it,” Davo growls. “You use and abuse your position. That fucking patch should be given to someone that actually takes the meaning of it seriously.”
“Who?” he spits back. “You? Pussy-tits over there?” He points to me and I laugh at him, watching as he crumbles.
“What the hell is happening here?” My father’s voice cuts through the air, sharper than any knife. The raucous noise of the room dies down and everyone looks at my father as he hobbles around the table, heading for the chair positioned at the head.
“Just a difference of opinion,” Davo replies, brushing Silver on the shoulder. Silver swats his hand away before resuming his position in the seat next to my father.
“The fuck’s wrong with your leg?” I ask, giving him the once-over.
“Fell and twisted my knee,” he says casually.
“You okay to ride today?” Silver asks.
“Always, brother,” he replies with a smile. Picking up the gavel, he twirls it in his hand as he leans back in the chair.
“Let’s kick off today with the deal this afternoon.”
“Did we vote on doing a deal with the Deathseekers? That motherfucker ratted us out,” I say, my eyes focused on my father as I call into question the deal he has made without a vote at this table.
Resting his head against his propped-up arm, he looks directly at me. “I don’t think the crew knew they had an FBI rat amongst them. I trust Brewer.”
“Really?” I challenge. “Tiny took the fall and is still serving time for this club. We need to be careful.”
“I agree,” adds Zane. “One of our men is doing time because they didn’t know they had feds hiding in their MC.” The room fills with hums and mumbles of agreement.
“This isn’t up for debate,” my father yells. “The arrangements have already been made.” Slamming his hand down he continues. “I made a judgment call. I did this with the best interests of the club. We help him deliver the guns, we get a fifty percent cut.”
Silver lets out a whistle. “That’s gonna be some serious cash.”
“For the record…” I say, pulling out my smokes and tapping the bottom of the packet. Grabbing one, I place it to my lips, Zane offering me a light. Leaning forward I let the tip of my cigarette connect with the flame, taking a drag of my smoke. I throw the box into the middle for the other guys. “…I think we are making a big mistake. But,” I add, “if it’s a done deal, then we roll with it.”
“I say we take a vote,” Gus bellows. “If we are putting ourselves at risk, we should call a vote. This has to be a club decision.”
Glancing at my father, I recognize the rage in his eyes. Guys who would normally follow the herd are starting to question his decisions.
“No,” I reply. “Backing out now will only put tension between our two clubs. I say we have to go with it.”
Davo nods his head in agreement. “Yeah. Nate’s right. But we have to be careful. Any sign of foul play or any one of us suspects a problem, we have to agree to be out.”
“Goes without saying, brother. I don’t want to see another one of my men locked up. Or worse. Killed,” I reply, glancing between my father and Davo.
Lifting the gavel, my father says, “We meet outside at one. Don’t be late. Do we have a
ny other business before we finish here?” His head sweeps around the room, waiting for a response.
“I have other business,” I reply with a lift of my head.
“What is it, Nate?” my father asks. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s less than fucking happy.
“I want to put the VP patch to a vote.”
“What?” he asks, scrunching his nose, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Silver is VP. No need for a vote.”
“The shit he pulls ain’t good for us,” Zane adds.
“What Silver does is on my command. He’s a loyal brother and deserves the seat he has beside me.”
“So you ordered that shit last night with Emily, huh?”
“What shit? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” my father says lazily. “Ain’t she just some club whore?”
“Your prospect brought her here. Poor chick had no idea what she was getting into,” I remark.
Silver and my father laugh, exchanging looks between them. “They never do,” Silver says, continuing to laugh. “They all end up crying when I ram my ten-inch in. But they love it really though,” he mocks, and I can’t help wanting to smash the smug look from his face.
“Listen.” I lean forward on my elbows. “You gave me first refusal. I took it.”
“It was a bit of fun,” Silver dismisses.
“No one is laughing here,” Jarvis adds. “You held a gun to our heads for trying to stop you. The girl had no idea what was happening. She was terrified. How do we know you won’t turn on us again? Can’t trust a brother who wants to put a motherfucking bullet in your skull.”
“Is this right?” My father looks directly at Silver.
“Kind of,” he says with a lift of his shoulders. “They’re making it sound way worse than it was. Fucking drama queens.”
My father sits upright, his body language stiff. “I will speak with you later. For now, we concentrate on our arrangements with the Deathseekers. We will adjourn the VP shit until next time.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He drops the gavel, sending the thud echoing around the room. I shake my head with frustration. I should’ve known, even with support, that he’d throw out the request for a re-vote.
“Leave us,” my father orders. The men step away from the table, making their way out and over to the bar. I’m the last to leave and I glance at Silver and my father over my shoulder.
“Close the door on your way out, boy.” Silver grins. Spinning on my heel, I drag the door closed behind me, allowing it to swing shut with a bang. Storming over to the bar, I lean down on my elbows.
The guys crowd around me. Zane appears to my right, flicking out his elbow, giving me a slight nudge.
“Fucking bullshit,” he whispers. “We all asked for that vote.”
I tilt my head to the side. “My father doesn’t like to be challenged. No one has ever really tried. And look what happened when we did. We backed down like fucking pussies the minute he said no.”
“Don’t rush this,” Davo adds from behind the bar. Popping the cap off, he pushes a bottle of beer toward me. “We keep chipping away. Sooner or later he has to listen.”
“I guess,” I say, pressing the top of the bottle to my lips and allowing the cool liquid to fall into my mouth.
“You don’t think we can trust the Deathseekers?” Gus asks. I turn, resting my back against the bar to face him.
“Nah, man. I don’t trust them, but I ain’t sure what my old man has planned. We gotta keep our eyes and ears open. If this is some kind of setup, I won’t have my men take the fall.”
They hum in response, nodding in agreement.
My men.
That’s right. These men are my brothers and I’m finally finding my place in the club. My voice is starting to be heard and my aspirations for a stronger, more united club may well be the future.
The only thing that stands in the way are two men.
One is my father. The other asshole is his VP.
I swallow the lump that grows in my throat knowing that this is how it has to be. That I have to be the one to make that push. It’s for the good of the men and this club.
And Tara. Let’s not forget about Tara.
Tara
I stare at the phone as it flashes beside me. The buzzing vibrates through the mattress and I hover my hand over it, contemplating answering the call. Twenty-two times she’s called already. Twenty-two times I’ve stared at the screen until it rang off.
Snatching it, I slide my finger across the screen, answering the call.
“Hey,” I mutter so quietly I’m not sure she can even hear me.
“Tara, my God,” she cries out. “I’ve been so worried about you. How are you? What happened?” Her questions fly out so fast I can barely keep up. My hand shakes as I hold the phone to my ear, scared to speak. I know she won’t believe me. She’ll know that something bad happened.
“Talk to me,” she prompts, her voice full of sadness. “You’re my best friend, Tara. I need to know what happened that is so bad you can’t confide in me.”
“I… uh…” I try. But nothing comes. I have nothing to say to her that can make any of this shit go away. “I want to.” I manage to force the words out.
“But what? What the hell happened? Why did you run off like that?”
“You and Brax were keeping me locked up. I had to do something. Foolish, I know.”
Izzy sighs heavily. “We were protecting you,” she replies, then gasps. “Shit, Tara.” Her voice is muffled as it sounds like her hand is concealing the phone. “Is this… is this him? Did he do something to you?”
My eyes flutter shut, and I shed a solitary tear. How can I lie to her?
After a moment’s silence, she bellows down the receiver. “Tara, answer me, goddamnit!”
“Can you come here? Alone? I mean it, Izzy. I need you to be with me on this. I don’t want Brax knowing anything. If you can’t promise that, then don’t come.”
“Why?” she presses further.
“I’ll text you the address,” I reply, ignoring her question.
“But...” I don’t give her the chance to say any more. I pull away the cell phone, hitting the end button. I quickly type out the address and drop the phone on the bed.
Pushing myself up, I slide my legs over the edge of the bed and step up. The stinging sensation hurts like a bitch, and I wince at the pain, but more at the thoughts of that man touching me. I wonder if the images that flash through my mind will ever fade. Will my body heal? Of course. But my mind, that I’m not so sure of. The lack of memories doesn’t make it any easier. My mind creates images of what he did to me. Really vivid images. Shuddering, I shake my head, trying to clear it. I shuffle my feet over to the vanity, slowly sliding down onto the stool, precariously positioning myself so that it’s not so painful. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognize myself. I’m pale and bruised. My cheek is swollen and covered in small cuts. The swell of tears grows but I won’t let them break through. Not this time. I have to fix my face. I glance up one more time. How the hell am I going to fix my face? I let out an exasperated breath, reaching down into the drawer. I pull out an old cosmetic purse, rifling through for something that can fix this shit. All I find is some concealer and powder. I begin working over the marks, trying to hide them. But all I see is a stranger staring back at me. I’m tainted, and I don’t look or feel like the feisty Tara that my friends know and love.
A gentle tap on the door causes me to jerk in surprise. I clutch my racing heart as my eyes fall on my mother stepping into the room.
“Oh,” she says in disbelief. “You’re up.” Tilting her head, she comes closer, lines appearing on her forehead as she draws in her brows. “Baby, what’s wrong with your face?”
I look at myself in the mirror and can’t help the chuckle that escapes. I look ridiculous. The concealer is too light for my skin tone and I look like a goddamn Geisha.
“You don’t like this look?” I a
sk, stifling a laugh.
“Hell no, girl. Your dark hair and white makeup makes you look like a goth!”
I laugh a little, looking adoringly at the woman who raised me single-handed. I don’t remember my father much. He died in a car accident when I was just three years old. Since that day it was just me and Mom. But Mom was always close to her brother—my uncle Eddie, Carter’s father. The man that ran the city before Carter took over. Mom was the only woman in the family and everyone adored her. That’s why it was so hard for her to accept that Carter wasn’t the good man she had been led to believe. She didn’t know the things that I grew to know about him. She’d placed him on a goddamn pedestal so high he became untouchable.
“Tara, I’ve missed you,” she sighs, placing her hand gently against my back. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since we last spoke. I honestly didn’t know he was capable of the things you have told me about. Looks like I’ve been a fool.” She lets her head fall forward. “I’m not going to let anyone come between us again.”
“I love you, Mom.” Reaching up, I wrap my arm around her waist, her lips touching the top of my head as she kisses me softly.
“I love you too, baby.”
Pulling back, I tilt my head, looking up at her. “I’m expecting a visitor.” I grimace a little. “It’s Izzy.”
“Wow,” she says stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Really, Tara?”
“I know she’s the one that killed Carter. I know it still cuts deep. But she’s my best friend. I need her.”
“But you got me,” she spits back.
Pushing back the stool, I step up, placing a hand on either of her upper arms. “She had no choice, Mom. It was her or him. Given the choice you’d have done the same.”
“Maybe. But I raised that boy like he was my own child. He took care of me. It’s hard to let go of the innocent memories of him. Whether or not he deserved to die.”
I smile sadly, nodding.
“I think it’s best all round if I head out.” She points her forefinger over her shoulder. “I have to go downtown anyway. I have shit to do,” she rambles and I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself.
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