by Dani René
I settle opposite her, needing to be as far away, but also as close as I can be to her. She watches me for a long time. Her gaze flitting between me and the garden. Her nervous energy makes me anxious, and I wonder what she’s about to tell me. Probably something I don’t want to know.
“For a long time, I thought I had struck it lucky. There were times I looked at your father and convinced myself he was a good man,” she speaks, her voice soft, but I can hear her. “I wanted nothing more than to be someone.”
When she lowers her head, I take in her hunched back, her slumped shoulders, and I wonder how a woman who was always so obsessed with what everyone thought of her has come to this. Perhaps it makes me cold, but I feel nothing. There’s no sadness, not even an inkling of pity.
“When he told me what he had done,” she starts again, her voice raw, and that’s when I notice her crying. In all the years, I’ve never seen this woman shed her emotions. Even when they used to fight, she never allowed herself to show weakness. Because that’s what crying is, at least, what she believes.
When I was younger, she taught me to be hardened to the world. She explained how when you’re weak, people take advantage of you, but now that I’m learning more about her, I realize, she wasn’t offering advice from naivety, she was speaking from experience.
“I wanted to be a woman who could show the world I made it. Coming from nothing, I learned early on that there are those who only care about what they can see. Which is why I was always so hard on you.”
“One thing is for sure, mother, you made sure I wasn’t the same as you,” I inform her. “No man will treat me the way dad treated you.”
“You think a man like Lycan Shaw can give you happiness? Love?” This time, when she looks at me, I see the doubt swirling in her eyes. “He has money, he can buy you anything your heart desires, but there will never be connection.”
Her words make me laugh out loud. The muscles in my body tense and tighten as anger warms my stomach. “My husband has given me more in the few months I’ve known him than yours has in the years you’ve been married.” My words are confident, fierce, and my fingers tremble to smash something.
“You truly love him,” she murmurs, her eyes wide as she takes me in.
Looking at her, I nod. “I do. And he loves me, more than you or anyone else can ever imagine. He’s swallowed down his own needs, shoving them in a box in order for me to explore who I am as a person.” I don’t tell her more than that, because she doesn’t need to know. All she needs to hear is that I love the man who’s probably giving his brother an earful because of our wedding day.
“I wanted what was best for you.”
“So, you allowed Father to sell me to someone? To lose me in a bet while he was drunk and partying with girls who were my age?” The disgust is clear in my tone, and it makes her wince. I should care that I just hurt her, but I don’t. I push to my feet as her hands shoot out to grab onto mine.
“Don’t go yet,” she pleads with me, the tears dancing on her lashes as she regards me. The touch of her fingers on mine has me wanting to rip myself away and tell her to leave, but I swallow down the anger, and I don’t move.
“Give me a reason to feel anything for you but pity?” I ask, even though nothing is currently flickering through me. Nothing but the need to escape from her, from the lies of the Bardot family. If I’m going to make a name for myself, to finally have a family filled with love, I need to walk away.
“I love you,” she says, and it is one of the very few times those words have ever left my mother’s mouth. I don’t remember a time she didn’t say it loud enough for everyone to hear, to ensure all her socialite friends cooed about how sweet she was to me.
“It’s all pretense,” I tell her. “Everything you’ve ever done or said has been for the benefit of those around you. Are you saying this now because you know Dad has no more money? That the moment I go to the police and tell them what he did you’ll be left in the gutter?”
Once again, my mother winces at my words. I could forgive her, well, I could voice my forgiveness, but for a long while, I don’t think I can. Yes, in my heart I’ve let go of the torment that’s hurting me. As I look into her eyes, I silently forgive her for what she put me through, but I do it for me. To allow myself to move on.
“Do you even know what happened to me when I was at school?” I bite out, rage consuming me as I look at the woman who was meant to be there for me. The person I was supposed to be able to talk to when I needed advice, love, support.
From the look on her face, she clearly has no clue.
“I came home before summer break; I was two weeks early, and you didn’t give a shit about why the school sent me home.” My voice is nothing more than a low hiss. I’m shaking as I rip my hands from her grasp and fist them at my sides.
“I thought you said—”
“I didn’t say anything because you weren’t even home for me to talk to,” I bite out, interrupting her because I need her to know this before she leaves here today. “I was assaulted, forced into a bedroom with two frat guys, who tore my clothes and pinned me down making sure I begged for them to free me. And you know what happened?” Spinning to face her fully, I hiss, “I came home praying you’d come to my aid, to talk to me and see your daughter hurting, but all I got was your usual claims of fun with your friends. Lunches and dinners, tennis matches and country club cocktails.”
“I-I… Why didn’t you sit me down?”
“Don’t make this about what I should’ve done. The dean said he’d contacted both you and dad, but neither of you responded.” This time, the tears that had been burning slip past my lashes, and I allow them to. “I lost all my control that night. I lost a part of me. But I learned how to deal with it. Over time, I’m thankful they didn’t get as far as they wanted to. It could’ve been so much worse.” Even at my confession, she doesn’t come to me, she doesn’t even attempt to hold me.
You cannot walk forward in life while holding onto your past hurts. It will hinder you, hold you back while you try to make your way to a better future. And I won’t allow her to hold me back anymore. I’m done being a pawn in their game.
“My life is my own now. I’m healed.” As I say this, she twists her hands in her lap. “I’ve moved on, I’m creating my own family, one filled with truth, with honesty, and with love.”
She blinks, a single tear trickling down her cheek. Slowly, she nods as if coming to terms with what I’m saying. She hardened me so much, and what I’ve been through, had ensured I could take care of myself. No amount of begging and pleading from her will make me falter in my decision.
I’m strong now.
This is the woman she created.
“This conversation is over. I’d like you to leave.” I keep my voice clear, confident, and my chin raised. “I don’t want to hear from you again. I no longer have a family linked to the Bardots. With Grace in prison,” I tell her, using my grandmother’s name to ensure she realizes I’m washing my hands of the Bardots. “And with your husband paying for his sins in other ways, I’m going to let you go as well.”
“Scarlett, please—”
“When I needed a mother, you weren’t there. What I got instead was a coach, a socialite trainer who taught me how to smile when I hated everyone, to lie when I needed something, and to dress up my pain with pretty fabrics and expensive jewels.”
She shakes her head swiftly, her mouth opening, but words not escaping. She can’t deny it because she knows it, the bitter truth. Nothing I’m saying is a lie and my mother, the woman who is an expert on lies realizes it’s done.
She pushes to her feet, her hands trembling as they hang at her sides. Those eyes, so like mine, look through me. She’s an empty vessel, one my father took advantage of, but as much as he’s to blame, she is too. Even though she showed me how to be strong, she never took her own advice.
“Goodbye, Scarlett,” she says finally, lowering her head before turning and walking back into
the house. I watch her go. Once she disappears from view, I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
For a long while I stand in silence. My mind replaying the events of the day. I was so scared to face them, my parents, but now that it’s done, I feel a sense of unease. As if nothing is done. Perhaps it’s because my father went so easily. He gave up without a fight. Yes, he knew they outmatched him with both Lycan and Darius, but I’ve known him my whole life, and he has never given in to anything so quickly.
And that’s when I hear the shots echoing through the house.
31
Lycan
It wasn’t even the moment of impact. I heard a rustle outside the door, and I knew. Call it instinct, but my feet carried me faster than I anticipated. Pushing Darius to the floor, landing beside him, shots ringing out around us.
I don’t know who is shooting. But the bullets travel through the office door. Whoever is on the other side has a tussle, and suddenly, the door cracks and splinters as a body flies over the threshold, landing with a loud thud on the floor.
My lungs struggle to pull in air as deep voices come from the hallway, and men dressed in leather come bounding into my office. The smell of alcohol from mine and Darius’s drinks sting my nose as I push to my feet to find Horatio lying on the remains of the door.
His body slumps in a manner that confirms he’s out cold. Lifting my gaze, I find a couple of the Kovenant members staring at me. “Sorry, man,” one of them, I think his name is Howler or something like that, says. “Bastard managed to get free from the prospects that were watching him.”
Nodding, I step closer to Horatio, taking him in. His wrinkles more prominent with his face contorted in pain. His chest rising and falling. Honestly, I don’t care if he is or not.
“Get this bastard off my property. Make sure he doesn’t make a run for it,” I order, taking the lead, and I’m surprised Darius allows it. Suddenly, my wife races into the room, her pretty gray eyes wide with shock as she takes in the mess.
“What happened?” Her voice is a soft gasp that has a direct link to my cock. “Uhm… Why is he—?”
“Your dad tried to make his way back in here, to kill me I guess.” I shrug it off as she steps into my arms and wraps herself around me. She doesn’t notice the looks she gets from the rest of the men as they lift her father from the broken door and carry him out. “Bastard needs to pay for a new door,” I mumble before pressing my lips to the top of her head. Her silky hair smells like a spring morning, fresh and floral. Her fragrance has always been something I notice about her, it’s as if it enters a room before she does.
“My mother is gone,” she whispers into my jacket, and I glance at Darius, who nods. I watch him take out his cell phone and tap out something before looking at me. A smirk gracing his expression. He must have sent someone to make sure Marinda doesn’t try to disappear. I need to know where she is at all times. With my wife choosing to allow her mother to leave, I want to make sure Scarlett is safe.
“Are you happy about that?” I ask softly, running my knuckles over the smooth skin of her cheek. The warmth she radiates is nothing like I’ve experienced before. Nobody has ever made me weak and strong in equal measure like she does.
“Sort of,” she admits with a shrug. “I just needed to hear her side of the story. The thing about it is, she always taught me to be strong, to never allow anyone to walk all over me and yet, she let my father do just that to her.”
“But even so, she must still love you in her own way. Parents aren’t perfect,” I tell her gently because my father wasn’t. My mother was her own person, she didn’t allow my father to dominate her or tell her what to do. She was a strong woman. Even when she died, she looked like she was sleeping.
“I realize that, but it’s just that all these years I craved her love. I wanted her to see me, to allow me into her heart, but she never did. I lived my life alone because my parents were more concerned with what they appeared to be to their friends. They didn’t love like parents should love.”
My chest tightens at her words. She hasn’t had a good relationship with her folks, and that makes me sad. I don’t like seeing her cry, not when it’s from sorrow. When those pretty eyes fill with emotion, I want it to be from pure pleasure.
“When we have kids, I’m going to be a good mother,” Scarlett says suddenly, her wide gaze on mine. I have thought about kids before, a few times. But never realized I would have the opportunity to be a father.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind being an uncle,” Darius interrupts, causing me to glare at him over my shoulder. I wanted to ask her about her dreams for the future, but now that my brother spoke, the moment is gone.
“I thought you had some place to be,” I bite out, frustration clear in my tone. Arching a brow, I pin him with a glare.
His chuckle only rankles me more. He does it on purpose, there’s no doubt he does, but it doesn’t stop my annoyance from building. “I do actually.” He nods as he makes his way to where we’re standing. He takes Scarlett from me, and for a moment, I want to hold on to her, but he’s only saying goodbye. “I’ll be seeing you soon, little one,” he tells her before pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Be good for him.”
“I’m always good,” Scarlett responds with a sly smile that she knows will get her a spanking later. But when she slides under my arm, hers wrapping around my waist, I’m calm once more and the jealousy that’s bubbling in my gut settles.
“I’ll see you soon,” Darius tells me, holding out his hand, he grins. I accept his gesture, and we shake on it. I didn’t think we’d ever get to this place again. But since we’re here now, I feel like we will finally be able to move on from the past.
“Soon. When we’re back in New York, I’ll let you know,” I tell him.
Once Darius leaves, it’s just me, Scarlett, and my broken office door. I look down at her, taking in her face. A work of art, that’s what my wife is. “So, tell me more about these kids we’re having,” I tease, allowing my hands to trail down to her ass. I lift her against me, and she instinctively wraps her slender legs around my waist.
“I was thinking we should have two kids, a boy and a girl,” she says, a smile brightening her expression. A look I want to see on her forever.
“Oh?” I tip my head to the side as I regard her. “You do realize you can’t order them like that. Life has funny ways of not giving you what you want.”
“Did you want me?”
I think about how to word this, so she understands. “No. I didn’t want you, I needed you. Life didn’t give me what I wanted, which was a life alone, with a woman who just had to give me heirs. Instead, it gave me a woman I truly love who will bear my children and give me a family. Something I never realized I wanted.”
This time, Scarlett’s smile is so bright I’m blinded by her beauty. “Well, aren’t you just a poetic man when you need to be. A romantic if ever I saw one.” She taps my nose as she teases me, and her ass hits the desk before she can say anything more.
“I’ll show you romantic,” I growl, lowering my mouth to her neck, suckling on the silky flesh, biting down hard. I’ll leave a mark, and that makes me smile against her throat.
“Lycan—”
“Since you want two, I think we should start practicing now.” My hands are already at her thighs as I say this, and I’m about to teach my wife what happens when she wants romance.
32
Darius
One month later
Time is of the essence.
Since walking out of the Shaw manor, leaving Crimson Falls, I’ve settled into a newfound life. Yes, I’m still a biker. I still run the MC, but the anger that had plagued me for so long is gone. I talk to my brother almost every day and we’ve come to an agreement that if he needs men on his side, the club will be there.
With Kahn heading off soon to find Lorenzo, the bastard who took his sister, I promised I’d help. They had a decoy in Hawaii, thinking he was there, but it was nothing more than a
ruse. Nothing angers me more than what happens in the underground. What people don’t see is the filth that infiltrates cities, walking amongst them. And generally, they’re dressed in designer suits.
I click on the email from Alex confirming the location of the bastard we’re looking for. He’s flown out of JFK and will be landing in Italy soon. When Kahn told me about this job, I asked him to let me help. And my blood is already at boiling point after reading the case files.
I don’t take shit from most people. But when I see criminals getting away with the vile acts that they do, it only spurs me on to do something about it. Since the law doesn’t give a shit, or they’re too stuck up their own asses to even find pieces of shit like this, I’ve taken it upon myself to walk in, kill, maim, and torture, until all of them have paid.
Scrolling through the details of my flight, I quickly send a text to Lycan, letting him know I won’t be there for Christmas. I’ll be in Europe, enjoying myself as I get messy with blood on my hands and some pretty ass Italian women on my dick. I know he’ll only chuckle at that because my brother wants me to find someone.
He hasn’t said it in so many words, but since he and Scarlett have started trying for kids, he’s become softer, less of the cold-hearted bastard I came to know. He’s still an asshole, but with her, he’s different.
It’s not that I don’t want a family. Or even a few kids running around. It’s just that I’m so lost to this world, the violence and torture, the revenge that I seek is no longer for my family, but to help those who can’t help themselves. I’m not sure I want to raise children in the club.
And leaving the club means walking away from everything I’ve ever known. At least for a long time. I spent most of my adult life with these guys, and the thought of just leaving them doesn’t sit well with me.