Shamed (A Ruthless Rebels MC Novella Book One)

by Michele, Ryan

  We stood out in the cold as our balls shrank up waiting and waiting and this man with a leather cut, a Harley Davidson, a long ass beard and a shaggy hair cut took his time in the store. By the time he made it to the register with our bottle, Shamus and I could practically taste the liquor.

  Only Thumper came out with our bottle of Jameson, he held it up proudly. “The day you two graduate high school, this’ll be waiting for ya at my clubhouse. You get your shit done and I’ll open this and celebrate with y’all.” With help from Kenie I graduated. Shamus and I came by the club a week after we got our diplomas and Thumper shared a drink with us and allowed us to hang around.

  We did our time, earned our patches, and Ruthless has been as loyal to us as we have been to them. For two misfits with no family we found ourselves a place to belong. Thumper gave us that.

  I look to the men in front of me. Bender didn’t give them that. No, that man is all about his power.

  “Need to make sure they’re with Bender, find out if they know any plans, then I fuckin’ kill them.”

  “Do it.”

  I look to Shamus. “Hold him up.” I point to the strong one that seems to be leading the pack with his defiant looks. The scared one will give me the information I need, but the defiant one will be more fun. And I feel the need for these assholes to burn. All of them. Then to Lurch. “I need the plyers.” A wicked grin comes across his face. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve used plyers on teeth. But this warrants it.

  We have a cabinet off to the side where we keep our ‘tools’ and he goes off to it.

  The wood sits on the floor and I pick it up as Shamus rips the tape from the assholes lips. He heaves in breaths as I shove the hard board into his mouth. It’s the perfect size, holding his mouth open just enough to get the plyers onto his molars.

  The asshole struggles, but Shamus holds him with ease. Motherfucker is tough, always has been. I toss my cigarette down to the floor and stomp it out blowing the smoke in the assholes face.

  “Come and try to burn my girl, motherfucker?” I growl feeling my mind drift to a part of myself I shut off a lot of the time. The part where I can do anything and everything—with ease. The emotion drains from my body and I become cold as ice. It’s been a while since I’ve gone there, but fuck it’s like a second skin.

  Using the pliers just put in my hand, I reach in and begin to pull out teeth, the man’s blood going every which way. I ask him nothing as I pull and pull and pull letting his cries and screams echo through the space. The grunts and groans from the other men wafe too from my brothers. I’m not the only one who can have fun.

  After five teeth are tossed to the ground, I let my fists do the work. Each crack of my fists against flesh, each spirt of blood—none of it makes me feel better, because in this moment I don’t feel. I attack.

  “Bender told us to burn the house. He said that bitch Cora was in there and she needed to die.” One of the assholes who I’d guessed was the weakest of the group says and I nod to Shamus to let the asshole I worked over fall to the ground in an unconscious heap.

  “He said it would be a quick job, in and out. Shoot up the place, throw in the fire bombs and out.”

  This guy is a fucking idiot. Not anywhere near the capacity of the stooges that came into the gas station. Definitely one that’s low on the food chain and disposable.

  Lurch smashes another one of the man’s fingers and he screams out. By the looks of it, Lurch is up to three now. He does love a hammer. Says crushing bones is a great feeling.

  “I swear that’s all I know!” the dickhead screams and I believe him. Bender’s not fucking stupid enough to send someone to us that knows more than he should or more than he’ll tell.

  All his words do is put my sole focus on cutting Bender to shreds and making my mother pay.

  “Let’s end this,” Thumper calls out his eyes locking with mine asking me, but not really asking me. I nod once. “Let ‘em burn,” he says and Skinny, the fire junkie, pipes up.

  “This one’s mine.”

  We watch as the screams cease and the smoke billows the sky. The smell of flesh burns my nostrils as I come down from my ice. Three more motherfuckers off the streets.

  I need a damn drink, several of them.

  Chapter 12

  When you’re down to nothing you learn what matters most!

  I didn’t expect to fall asleep. In fact, I didn’t think my mother would either. There were episodes in the past where she would be so restless and so tired at the same time she couldn’t function but she couldn’t find a way to self-soothe.

  Waking up, I instinctively look for my clock. The clock my dad gave me. Immediately an emptiness fills my heart. All my dad’s things are gone. All my mom’s things, everything we had is gone. I lay quietly in DJ’s bed giving myself a moment to absorb the losses.

  It’s not long before my mother stirs beside me. “Kenderly,” she says my name with her voice scratchy.

  “Shhh,” I comfort her. “I’m right here. Go back to sleep.”

  She blows out a heavy breath. “We have to make a plan.” I feel the heaviness in her voice.

  “Mom, I’ll figure something out.”

  “No, we’ll do this together.” There’s a sadness in her eyes that crushes me a thousand times over. “I haven’t been living for years. I don’t know what to do or how to do it, but that fire, Kenderly, that fire could have taken everything.” Tears stream down her face and my own. “Kenderly, I laid in that bed ready to die.” She sobs and my heart rips in two. “I need help. I need counseling. What kind of mother lays there while her daughter could be burning in the other room? What kind of sister doesn’t move when her own flesh and blood, her lifelong best friend lays across the hall with smoke everywhere? I need to get myself right. I went down the rabbit hole and it’s time to get out of it.”

  “Oh mom,” I cry and wrap my arms around her. We lay together where for the first time in a long time, my mom holds me back and continues to whisper apologies all while she makes proclamations that this time will be better.

  “I think maybe going to that place where they do the intensive therapy that Dr. Nygen recommended would be a good place for me to get strong,” my mother rambles, trying to make a plan for herself. One that takes her away from me. While there was a time I wished every wish for her to be willing to take the leap and give a facility a try, now I can’t help the fear I have in being away from her.

  In my heart, I wonder if this is finally my life turning around? Maybe I need to embrace the idea of her going away to get stronger.

  It takes a while, but my mother settles and falls back to sleep. Me, I stare at the popcorned ceiling letting my mind roll over. The loss of everything is something I never expected. After losing so much already, to think that nothing would be left of the house we created a home together is devastating. But, that’s all it is. Stuff. Yes, some things can never be replaced. Ever. Sure I can go to the store and get another clock, but it’s not the same. But the fire didn’t take away my memories. The good ones that were there.

  The laughter and fun. The Christmas’s where we were happy and the excitement billowed throughout the space. The giggles from being picked up and swung around in the air by my father or even when I kept sticking my tongue out at my mom and she made me lick soap. At the time, I didn’t think it was funny. Now, I see the humor.

  There are also the darker ones that lay in that house. Seeing my father’s dead body, watching my mother fall apart at the seams. Me struggling to keep everything together on my own. Now all of those are gone too.

  The good and the bad. Never is there one straight and narrow. Never is there an easy way.

  The fire may have burned all of the stuff—but that’s exactly what it is—stuff. Mom and Aunt Ruth are safe and alive. Along with DJ and myself. That’s what matters. People. Not the material things. Those can be kept in your memory banks for years to come. Those can weather any storm. Those can help you or haunt you.
It’ll be my choice which path I go down.

  Right now, I choose to focus on the happy. We have a roof over our heads tonight and we’re safe. That’s what matters.

  As I lay here, the ache to see DJ grows as the time ticks by and sleep refuses to overtake me. I look over to my mother, who in rest looks peaceful, hoping that when she wakes up she can find it in life as well.

  Rolling off the bed, the clothes DJ gave me practically fall off of me. The sweatshirt is at least three sizes too big and the pants I have to hold up. I slip on my shoes and dart out the door needing to find DJ. So much has happened and this piece of me deep inside longs to see him, touch him, feel him, and know he’s real. That all of this is real.

  Opening the door, I try to remember the way we came in. Having my mother and the fire I didn’t take the place in as well as I should have. The long hallway is illuminated with bright lights and I hear some laughing and talking at the opposite end of it. So, I walk to the noise.

  My feet halt, stomach clenches and my heart breaks—no shatters in a million pieces is more like it. DJ sits at one of the small round circular tables, with some of his brothers around it. He lifts a beer to his mouth and takes a pull. That’s not what cuts me. It’s the pretty little blonde with a skirt so short half of her ass is on display. As she bends, I can see she has no underwear on.

  Her arms are wrapped around DJ as he turns and smiles up at her. She must take that as an invitation, because she walks around him and sits on his lap then she presses her lips to his.

  This isn’t happening again. The hurt.

  I won’t let it.

  I won’t let him treat me like I don’t matter.

  I won’t let him hurt me.

  I won’t allow him to keep me as a secret.

  I absolutely won’t allow a guy who says he has ‘claimed me’ to have another woman sitting on his lap with her lips pressed against his.

  Fuck this. Anger pours through me. From him. From her. From the loss of my house. From my mother not pulling her shit together. From Aunt Ruth looking like she’s aged more since starting to help me. From my father leaving me. From the doctors not finding out he couldn’t breathe at night. From all the dreams that I had before he died. From the child I once was.

  Fuck it. I’m done.

  I march up behind him as a couple of his brother’s see me, their eyes lighting up in amusement like their waiting for a show.

  DJ pulls away from the woman and begins to say something, but I grab the bitch by her hair and pull hard. Harder than I ever thought I could and yank her hard off of DJ’s lap. She sprawls to the floor in a heap all the while screaming and carrying on.

  A bit dazed she sits there for a moment while I turn my attention to DJ who has shock written all over his face.

  “If you think, for one minute, that I’m going to sit back and be a woman who doesn’t give a shit about her man fucking or kissing other women, you’re sadly mistaken. I don’t play that shit DJ.” I heave my words allowing all the anger to boil in my veins allowing me to feed off it. “You want that,” I point down to the floor where the bitch is slowly making her way up off the floor in her sky high heels. “Then fine. I’ve done fine on my own without you for the past eight years. I’ll be just fine after you. I don’t need this shit. I don’t want shit.”

  “Kenie,” he says sternly.

  “You fucking bitch.” The woman finally gets herself up and comes towards me. I’ve never fought anyone in my life, but from her face, I’d better get my shit together.

  I dart to the side as she comes up to me and I end up pushing her rough. The bitch lands in DJ’s lap. So fitting. Whatever.

  “That’s what you want. Fine, but don’t come barging into my life with all your bullshit and declarations. I have enough to deal with on a daily basis. You will not add shit to my plate.”

  I felt strong after I said those words looking dead in his eyes. The power of them and the honesty in them makes me feel relief, because I stand by them. I’m not trash that can be thrown out in the night. I’m not someone who can be put on a shelf and only taken down when he chooses to play with me. I’m a damn woman who needs to get her life in order. And this right here is going to be the first step.

  DJ wants this kind of life, this kind of love, I’ll figure my shit out all on my own. I have a bit in savings and the insurance money for the house will help. Mom and I can stay at Aunt Ruth’s for a while. It’s a one-bedroom, but she won’t turn us out. When the money comes in, I’ll get us an apartment and get my mother sorted. Then I can get sorted without him, without his bullshit and without all of this.

  I’ve carried this weight for years, but never living. Now, after this, I carry it with new found determination and strength.

  Turning, I march out the same way I came in and enter DJ’s room. Suddenly the thought of being in here, knowing what he’s probably done with countless women in here makes me ill. The fact that I slept in that bed where he’s fucked God knows who, that my mother is sleeping on it has my heart aching and stomach wanting to hurl.

  The doorknob turns without a sound, but I don’t need to be quiet because my mother is sitting up in the bed surprising me.

  “Mom, are you okay?” I ask closing the door and coming to sit by her. Mom’s hand darts out and she cups the side of my face tenderly something I so need in this moment.

  “The better question is are you?” she asks.

  “No. We need to leave.” I look over to the table and a phone sits there. “I’m going to call us a cab. We’ll run by the ATM and get some cash then stay at a motel for a bit.” Her eyes widen, but I don’t want to rehash any of this right now. My strength is only going to take me so far tonight. I need to regroup. “After we sleep, we’ll go from there.” My mind automatically starts calculating everything we need to do. First, get to my car and make sure it wasn’t damaged in the blaze. I don’t want to take mom back there so I need to figure out what to do with her. We need clothes. I can’t wear the same busted stuff we arrived in and DJ’s shit doesn’t fit and I don’t want a damn thing from him.

  The door crashes open and DJ snarls in the doorway, his nostrils flaring and hands clenched in fists. My mother jumps beside me and I reach out and take her hand, hopefully reassuring her.

  “Woman,” he says and I turn to him.

  “Don’t you have some woman to screw or do whatever it is you do with them?” I charge back not backing down. Last time, when he broke my heart, I ran from the pain—hiding, avoiding. Not this time. I’m not. Refuse to be the woman I was as a child. I try to sit on the bed and reach the phone on the nightstand only to have it whisked away at the last second by DJ’s hand.

  “You’ve got your fucking lines crossed. You wanna do this shit in front of your mother?”

  “I’m not doing anything with you. I’m calling a cab and we’ll be out of your hair. Then you can go on and do whatever in the hell it is you do here.” I stare at him deadpanned. “Because I’m not putting up with that bullshit, DJ. Ride or die?” I throw his words back in his face. “That’s only two of us, not anyone you want to drag along in the process. Not fucking happening.”

  My mother gasps her hand going to her chest. I should feel bad for laying this all out in front of her, but she’ll find out anyway so why hide it.

  “First,” he begins with an arrogant smirk, “I believe I told you not to leave this room. What you’ve gotten all hell bent on is on you not me.”

  “You fucker!” I half screech as my anger reaches a tipping point.

  “Second, I was telling Cutie Pie to take a hike before you laid her out. Which was hot as fuck, by the way.”

  “None of this is hot, you pig, except the fact that I’m raging hot mad. I knew this was going to lead to heartache. And nothing about this should be making you smile, smirk, or have that shit-eatin’ grin. If it was me with a man half hanging on my lap, you tell me how that would go down?”

  “Stop, Kenie. Stop shutting shit down before it can eve
n begin. Stop looking for a damn reason to shut me out before I can even get settled. I was at a table with my brother’s having a beer. Cutie Pie is one of a bunch of tricks that hang around looking for a good time. Tonight she learned I’m not that good time.” He pauses and cups my chin in his hands. I meet his stare as the air in the room seems to shift. “If – and baby, you should make sure it doesn’t ever become a reality, if any man was to even get close enough to get near your lap much less on it, I’d fucking gut him. Told you this shit was for life, fucking meant that shit, Kenie.”

  “You’re serious,” I whisper.

  “As a motherfuckin’ heart attack. I claimed you, Kenie; in my world I gave you me, all of me. This is the only time I’m gonna stop to explain myself to you. This is how it is. I don’t need you to act a fool in front of my brothers or some trick, I need you to know it, feel it, and simply own it: I’m yours, Kenie. No need to toss a bitch to the floor, I’m coming home to you.”

  I want to fight him. I want to tell him to fuck off. I want to run, scream, throw shit, and whatever else I can do. The thing is I know Dixon. I know the man has always meant every word he’s said. When he says he’s mine, there isn’t a single doubt. I rushed in the room and didn’t give him a chance to handle his shit in his world. That’s on me.

  I try to drop my head and he tips my chin back up forcing me to look at him. “Made the claim all on my own, Kenie. Fuckin’ mean that shit. Gotta know though, even if it kills me, you gonna own it; you and me, can we find our way?”

  Tears prick the back of my eyes and I hear my mom crying beside us. Her whispers aren’t hidden, “Joseph, she’s got herself a good one. If she’ll just hold on tight.” I can’t speak. I just nod my head.

  Taking a deep breath, I look the man who has me in a way that terrifies me, “Can’t stay here, DJ. I get this is your life, who you are. I’m grateful to the Rebels for helping us get out. I can’t stay here. I can’t sleep in a bed where you’ve done,” I pause not wanting to say anymore in front of my mom, “stuff with other people.”