Runaway Love

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Runaway Love Page 2

by Colbie Kay


  "Okay." I imagine he shrugs not really caring how old they are.

  He's used to being around Sicily. She's my best friend, Emery’s, daughter. He loves that little girl like she's his sister. He even calls her “Sis.”

  We pull up to Audrey's and she's waiting outside. "Hey, Daphne!" She smiles brightly.

  I mirror her smile. “Hey, Audrey!"

  She closes the door, buckles up, and turns to look at Zane. "Hey, dude!"

  He responds, "Hey!"

  I pull out onto the street and begin driving to the compound.

  When we stop at the gate, Audrey leans over me and I roll the window down. "Hey, Chayser!"

  He looks me up and down before greeting her. "Hey, Audrey." His tone is deep and sexy. I love the dreads he's got going on.

  He opens the gate, I drive in, and park along with the rest of the vehicles. Audrey rushes out of the car along with Zane. I watch him run over to the other kids while Audrey leans back onto the car kissing the life out of Hunter.

  Shaking my head at the two being almost indecent against my car, I decide to leave my bag in the backseat. I put the keys in the console, open my door, and step out. Everyone is sitting outside, some I recognize, others I don't. They all have drinks in hand while talking and laughing. I walk up to the table Writer is sitting at and give everyone a shy smile and a small wave.

  Writer's narrowed eyes zone in on me and his brows raise in curiosity. I suspect he's wondering about Zane. I've never talked about my personal life with him. He confirms my suspicion when he points in the direction of the kids. Lowering my head a little, I look over at my son, back to Writer, and point to myself letting him know that Zane is in fact mine. His eyes grow significantly larger in surprise. Hunter and Audrey finally decide to join the rest of us, taking the seat Hunter was sitting in when I parked the car.

  Zoey walks over, giving me a chair she’s holding. "Hey, Daphne, I'm so glad you came!" Her smile is dazzling. All these women are naturally beautiful with perfect bodies, even after having babies.

  Me, not so much. I'm plain without my dramatic makeup. I have thick thighs, wide hips, and a not so flat stomach. I never could lose all my baby weight from Zane. And pregnancy definitely caused me to have a fuller figure.

  "Thanks for inviting me." I grin back.

  Her gaze searches around until it lands on me. "Audrey mentioned you would be bringing someone with you."

  I nod. "My son, Zane. He went over to play with the kids."

  Her mouth gapes open. "I didn't know you had a son!" She taps my arm. "Girl, you should come hang out with me a Jacey more often when we have our girl time."

  "Yes, you should!" Jacey chimes in, making me laugh.

  "Okay, sounds fun." I agree. It would be nice to have more girlfriends since I don’t have much of a life outside of Zane and Runaway Tattoo.

  Zoey’s eyes drift away from me and out to the parking lot. I follow her stare to find another woman walking up. When I turn back around, all the women that were seated are out of their spots at the same time the clubhouse door opens.

  All hell breaks loose when two men walk out of the door. One goes charging toward the woman walking up. He starts screaming and yelling at the woman. The other guy’s eyes connect with mine. My fucking heart stops and I enter flight mode. He drops the tray of food he was carrying while I take off for Zane.

  "Come on!" I yell more aggressively than I should, but we need to leave, and leave now!

  He pouts from where he’s sitting on the grass playing. "But, Mom."

  I shout at him, "Now, Zane!"

  He stops playing and slowly walks to me. I grab his arm and run to our car. We get in, I don't bother buckling up this time and rush to get the keys out of the console. I try to get the key in the tiny fucking slot to start the ignition, but my hands are shaking so badly.

  Finally, I get the car started and take off like a bat out of hell, almost plowing through the gate because Chayser barely got it open in time. I speed on the gravel road, flinging rocks all around the car as I race back to the highway. It’s a forty-minute drive from the compound to Runaway Tattoo, so I head there instead of going back to our apartment. My nerves are shot, but my art has always been the constant calm to settle me. It gives me peace to have a pencil in my hand and a blank canvas in front of me. I can get lost in my art and that’s what I need right now.

  Five miles outside of the city limits, red and blue lights flash in my rearview mirror. Fuck! Pulling over on the side of the road, I put my car in park and reach into the glove box for my insurance and driver’s license.

  My hands are still trembling when the police officer comes to my window. "Good evening, ma'am. Where you headed in such a hurry?" He's young with a beard, muscles, and tattoos. Good looking enough to be a model, but screams trouble out of uniform.

  "I'm just going to my tattoo shop. Was I speeding?" I bat my fake lashes in innocence, hoping it might help get me out of a ticket.

  He shows no expression, leaving me wondering whether he’s falling for my lame attempt or not. "I clocked you going 90 in a 75. I'll need your driver's license and insurance." I hand it over and he walks away.

  My thumbs tap on the steering wheel while waiting for him to return.

  "Mom, you shouldn't have been speeding," Zane reprimands me from the backseat.

  Narrowing my eyes, I glare at my son in the rearview mirror. "I know, and when you get older, you abide by all the laws, understood?"

  "Understood." He smirks and laughs.

  It feels like it's been forever before the officer comes back, but finally, he does and hands me the ticket.

  "I'm giving you a ticket for speeding and not wearing your seatbelt. You can either pay before the court date or choose to appear. Have a good night and slow down. Maybe I'll come visit your shop sometime." He winks, taps on my door, and walks away.

  He gives me a ticket, then wants to come and get a tattoo? I think not! I look at the price of the ticket, huff extra dramatically, and toss it into the passenger's seat. I’ll remember his face, and if his shows up, I’ll tattoo him and make sure to dig those needles in extra rough. Not really, but now I’m pissed that I have an expensive ass ticket to pay for. I look at the time on my clock and the forty-minute trip has now turned into over an hour.

  I get Zane situated in the game room I have for him at my shop, and he’s happily playing his PlayStation. I walk into my office, sit behind my desk, and release a deep breath. Running my hands down my face, I start thinking about two hours ago, seeing Devon. Or was it even him? Was it someone that just resembled him, and I freaked? Shaking my head, I stand from my desk chair and rush outside to get some fresh air. I’ve never had an issue with tight spaces, but right now the walls feel like they are closing in on me.

  Bending over, I grab my knees and take a few deep breaths. Did he see Zane? I pray to all the Gods in the sky that he didn't. What if he did? I have a million questions running through my mind right now. My head is spinning, maybe I was just hallucinating, and it wasn’t even Devon. But deep down inside, I know it was him because, damn it, when our eyes locked, that same fucking invisible cord was drawing me into those blue orbs.

  I hear the rumble of a motorcycle. Oh Jesus! Please don't let that be him. I think I might pass out! This is too much, my heart can't take it. I no longer hear the bike. I stand up straight and there he is. Older, more muscular, but the same boy I have loved since I was six-years-old. Devon Mayfield. Only he's not a boy anymore, he's a man. A hard bodied, angry man with an intense stare.

  “Why did you leave?” He questions with the voice I haven’t heard in eleven years. The voice I have tried to remember all this time, only it’s grown deeper, huskier. Over time the little things slowly began to fade like the sound of his voice, the smell of his cologne, and the way it felt to be wrapped in his arms–protected and safe.

  My mouth drops open for a second before closing. My eyes narrow and I point at him. “You were the one that left!” My lips
lift into a sneer. “And I guess you were too much of a pussy to show your face when you got back.” I notice the black cut. He’s wearing the same black cut as Writer and the rest of those guys. “You’re one of them?” I question with a snide tone. I’m not an idiot. I know you have to prospect before becoming a patched member. I give a small huff of disbelief and cross my arms over my chest. “How long have you been back? Years?”

  Devon storms across the lot, backing me into the brick of the building. “I couldn’t bring my damage to you.” He cages me in. “I’m broken good, and I’ll fuckin’ break you too. I can’t do that to you.”

  My fists pound against his chest over and over as I scream, “You already did that.” He doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t even flinch against the assault. Breathless, I give up. My angry stare levels with his through my thick black lashes. “Then why the fuck are you here?”

  “Mom?”

  Devon turns in the direction of Zane.

  My eyes screw shut. Shit! “Go back inside. I’ll be just a minute.”

  “The fuck?” Devon murmurs.

  I open my eyes, snapping them toward the front door. It’s closed now and I turn back to Devon. “You need to leave.”

  His eyes are wide, curious, and shocked. “He’s mine.”

  Devon doesn’t say it like a question. It’s a statement because Zane is the spitting image of his father. He punches the brick, backs away, and storms back to his motorcycle.

  I release a long sigh of relief. I’ll think of my next move later, but right now, the tears are coming.

  I rush back inside. “Zane, what did you need?” My voice trembles.

  “I got it. I just wanted some water,” He replies. “Who was that man?”

  I breathe deeply knowing the sobs are going to start any second. I hold my palm out, halting any more questions. “Not right now, Z.”

  I plop down in my office chair, cover my face with my hands, and let the tears fall.

  I'm laying on my bed doing homework when Mom yells from the living room. "Daphne, Devon is here." Why wouldn't he just come into my room?

  Jumping up, I walk out to the living room and look around. "Where is he?" Mom points to the door. My brows knit, but she shrugs her shoulders.

  I step the rest of the way to the door and open it. Devon has his head down and hands in his pockets. He lifts his gaze to mine. "Hey, Daph." He gives me a small smile, but there's something in his eyes I don't recognize. He's acting strangely.

  My smile is wider than his. My brows pull down when I realize that actually, his smile is nonexistent. "Why didn't you come in?"

  He pulls one of his hands out of his pocket and rubs the back of his neck. "Take a walk with me."

  I nervously laugh. "Okay." I know Devon, he's my best friend and right now, something is off with him, something's not right. Opening the front door, I poke my head in. "I'm going for a walk with Devon." I shut the door and let him lead the way.

  He's silent as we walk down the street until we come to the end of our block. "I enlisted, Daph."

  My heart stops. My steps falter. "What?" I ask quietly and freeze.

  "I enlisted into the Army." He stops and turns to face me.

  "What about college? You were supposed to leave this fall and I was joining you next year after I graduate." Tears pool in my eyes, a few trickle down my cheeks.

  "College never was for me, Daph." His hands are back in his pockets. He's looking at the ground while kicking at loose pebbles of gravel. Bullshit it wasn’t! We had a plan.

  "But we had a plan, Dev. What does this mean? When do you leave." Wrapping my arms around myself, I'm suddenly cold. It's not from the summer night air, it's coming from inside of me. I shiver from the feeling of loss.

  He lifts his head and looks out at nothing in particular, squinting his eyes. "I leave tomorrow." I’m taken back by his answer. He’s leaving tomorrow! He didn’t even bother answering what this means. What’s going to happen to us? He just ruined everything!

  "Tomorrow?" My mouth gapes. What the hell? "When did you enlist, Devon?" My voice rises with something I've never felt toward him: anger.

  "A few weeks," He deadpans.

  I yell, "And you're just now telling me?" My whole world is being flipped upside down. More tears fall.

  His eyes connect with mine. "I didn't know how to tell you." He takes a few steps closer. "I'll be back after basic training."

  My head starts to spin, my heart begins to break, and the tears are cascading down my face. I feel like I'm losing everything: my best friend, my boyfriend, my soulmate, my future. I cover my face with my hands and shatter apart as the uncontrollable sobs take over.

  Devon sighs and pulls me into his arms. "Daph," He says my name on a sigh.

  I fist his shirt in my hands. "Please, don't go!" I beg.

  He went and he never came back to me. All my calls went unanswered, all the messages I left were never returned, and every letter I sent was forwarded back to me. Today was the first time I’d laid eyes on Devon Mayfield since that night when I was seventeen.

  Hacker holds the door open for me to carry the tray over to the grill. Once we're both through the door, all hell breaks loose. Hacker takes off and starts yelling shit, but it all fades as my ears begin to ring. All the blood drains from my face and my eyes are glued to the woman only a short distance away. Her arms, neck, and chest are covered in tattoos, clothes are gothic style, and makeup is heavy and dark, but her eyes are the same stormy gray eyes that mesmerized me so many times.

  Daphne Brooks.

  She's no longer the girl I remember, the girl I left behind. She's a woman. Thicker and fuller figured than she used to be, but fuck me, she's just as gorgeous. If it’s possible, she’s even more so now that she’s a grown woman, but why is she hiding behind the makeup and tattoos? It’s almost like she’s using them like a protective armor.

  Losing my grip on the tray, it falls from my hands scattering meat across the ground. Fuck! I snap out of my hypnotized state and start picking up the food. It's a good God damn thing we have more. After I pick up the last piece, I glance up to where she had been standing, but she's gone. Was she really here? Were my eyes playing an evil trick on me? I scan the parking lot only to see a cloud of dust.

  I go back inside and put the tray on the counter. Walking out of the kitchen, I go sit at the bar and order a beer from Drifter.

  Staring at the wall, I zone out trying to figure out what the hell is going on. My phone buzzes in my pocket, I pull it out and see that Chayser is calling from the gate.

  “Hello?” I answer with a curious tone.

  “Doc, got someone out here asking for you.” Who would be asking for me? Thinking maybe Daphne came back, I hang up and run out to the gate, but it’s not her.

  It’s someone on a soft tail Harley. He pulls his helmet off, and I’ll be damned…

  He smiles from ear to ear. “Well if it isn’t Specialist Mayfield in the fuckin’ flesh.”

  My grin is just as wide. “Open the gate,” I tell Chayser, keeping my eyes on Chad Mullins. When the gate opens, I walk out. He climbs off his Harley, and we strong hug each other. When we break apart I ask, “What the hell are you doing here?” He hasn’t changed much since I last saw him: same blond buzz cut, stocky build, and dog tags hanging loosely on his dark t-shirt.

  “After I finished out my last re-up, I decided it was time to be home with Christy and the kids, but home life hasn’t exactly been working out. I need that brotherly connection, ya’ know? I figured why the hell not come here.” His dark eyes tell me there’s more to the story, but I’m focused on my own shit right now. I’ll help him get an in though, it’s the least I can do for him.

  Chad Mullins is the only one I’ve kept in contact with from my unit and time served in the army. From letters I wrote, he knew where I was and how to get ahold of me if he ever needed a place to go. “You just hanging around for a few days or longer?”

  He shrugs his shoulder. “I thought I�
�d stick around, maybe see about prospectin’.”

  I nod in understanding. I get it, it was the same way for me when I came back. It’s not an easy adjustment. “I’ll introduce you to Hanger, our president. You can talk to him. Come in and park your bike.”

  He does as I instruct, and I lead him over to the rest of the club. “Hanger?” Prez peers up at us and I continue, “I want you to meet an old army buddy of mine. He’d like to talk to you about becoming a prospect.”

  Hanger stands. “Let’s go into my office.”

  I follow them into the clubhouse, but I stay at the bar and order another beer.

  A few bottles later, they come out of the hallway, Mullins is smiling which I take as a good sign and Hanger calls church.

  As I’ve sat here alone, I’ve been going over why Daphne would’ve been here. What would she have to do with the club and why is she even still in town? I always thought she would have been long gone after graduation. She was destined for greatness with her art.

  I follow my brothers into the room and take my seat. I zone out not hearing a single word Hanger says until my name is called.

  “It seems to me that you have some shit going on too. You wanna talk about what the fuck happened out there? Doc, you dropped the whole tray of food, acted like you saw a fuckin’ ghost.” Hanger's brows dip down. His stare works its way around the table. “For some reason, y’all can't get your shit together. If you can't get your heads clear, then these Four King cunts are gonna take us down. Do you wanna lose this club? Because I sure as fuck don't.” His hard glare ends back on me.

  That's fucking fine with me because I'm pissed as hell right now, and it all fucking clicks. "Why didn't you ever say her name?" His head rears back, his expression turns to confusion. "When we went into business with Runaway Tattoo why didn't you say the owner’s fucking name was Daphne?"

  "'Cause it shouldn't matter what her fuckin' name is. We needed a legit business to put money into and that was it." He stares at me incredulously.

  "It fucking matters." I shake my head, anger boiling inside me. I stand from my chair so fast it falls back. "I'm outta here." I stomp to the door, open it, and slam it behind me. I storm through the club, out to my bike, and gun it through the lot, out onto the road.

 

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