The Way Home (Lights of Peril)

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The Way Home (Lights of Peril) Page 8

by Unknown


  After Saturday night, I’m unsure what he thought was going to happen. I’m not ready to completely move on with anyone yet and I can’t just make up some magic miscellaneous date to when I will be ready. It’s not fair to him. I know this. I shouldn’t have even kissed him back. I’m a bitch.

  Chapter Nine

  “Would you please, please, please, please, please, please, please stop talking?”

  -Ernest Hemingway

  I have effectively evaded Ace all week, meaning he’s still livid and continues to avoid me. He’s wounded. I get that. I was a bitch to let him continue working my body into submission. I know Ace, though. He loves me and will understand my hesitancy to commit to being more with him. There will be a day I’m ready to let someone in again, just not now.

  Tonight we are headed to Shell Horn’s to give Peyton our goodbyes. She doesn’t leave for a couple of weeks yet, but she is wrapped around making her Gramma comfortable with the move, so she’s moving this as fast as she can so no one has time to overthink the big decision.

  Sadly, I’ve already come to the realization she’s leaving. It sounds so bad admitting that this loss I’m experiencing is small, in comparison to others.

  I’m expecting a packed house with the babysitting crew coming tonight. Patrick has a minor ear infection. Almost nonexistent said the pediatrician who I bullied into giving me antibiotics, just in case it got worse. His Uncle Shame has invited others to stay with him on duty since he had committed to watch him while we all went out.

  Shame is scared of a little boy with a slight fever and possible ear infection. If Shame wasn’t built like a tree, covered with tattoos, abrasive as hell, and dominant by nature, I would swear he was nothing but a scoop of mush. This will never be said out loud, ever.

  So, once he heard that Patrick was not feeling well, he immediately told Honor he was helping. Ace apparently wanted to be here as well. He’s bringing Cherry since she’s going with us. He’s been trying to get back into Shame’s good graces, but it isn’t going well. Since Mace told me that Shame is still getting phone call after phone call from ‘others’, he’s having us watched more than ever. Tonight, he’s having three of the club brothers come with us. I don’t know who they are and I can’t say that I care.

  While waiting for the cavalry to arrive, I’m in my bathroom to put finishing touches to my face and hair. I have always loved dressing up, even to just run common, every day, household errands. I never used to sit in my flannel pajama pants eating cookies and feel sorry for myself. This used to drive Mace, Shame, and Hem crazy. I would make us late to everything because I refused to miss an opportunity to be a girl. I’m not able to reminisce for long because there’s a knock on the door.

  Putting my boy back in his seat, I make my way to the door as I sigh, hoping it isn’t Ace. I would prefer not having another awkward moment alone with him before everyone else gets here. I am so enveloped in my own inner embarrassment in regards to Ace that it’s not until after I open the door it occurs that I should have checked to see who it was first.

  I vaguely, I remember Mace telling us about one of her dad’s ‘boys’ from the Angels, and since Hem’s death we haven’t heard anything from them, just as we knew we probably wouldn’t as Warren’s revenge was exacted in Hem’s death. As I look into his face I now remember word for word Mace’s description of the man before me. She was scared in her recollections and I find myself mirroring her sentiment.

  “You Sadey? You Hem’s woman?” His face is all scarred up and he’s staring at me with a look that seeks absolute vengeance.

  “Who are you?” My voice is shaking and I’m terrified to answer. I try to close the door but he puts his foot against it, holding it open with his boot, maintaining his glare.

  “Bitch, I asked you a fuckin’ question. Are you his woman?”

  He looks around me into the house as his gaze zeroes in on Patrick. I quickly make another attempt to shut the door, but he shocks me further when he lets a loud growl, “Jackpot, you’re still here!” Then he simply walks away.

  What the fucking hell was that?

  I’m cursing myself for answering the door without looking. Shame has warned me to be cautious. Moving quickly throughout the house I close all of the blinds, locking windows, front and back doors.

  As I make my way down the hall I stop when something from inside Mace’s old bathroom catches my eye through the crack of its door. No one uses this bathroom since she’s moved out unless I have a guest.

  My skin on the back of my neck tingles, furthering my nervousness at what might be behind there. I move to push it all the way open, but it doesn’t open like it should, something from behind is stopping its motion.

  Once I’m inside I find what has blocked it and I scream so loud the echoes from the enclosed space pierces my own ears.

  On the wall, behind the door is a note pinned with a knife. I’m not about to touch it, or anything around the bathroom for that matter. I can barely make out the handwriting on the paper with the knife’s blade blocking the words. It looks like a child wrote it, but what I can make out of it makes me vomit on the floor before I can even try to turn towards the toilet.

  “He fucked up, Sadey girl. Payment is due.”

  With Patrick still sleeping in his infant chair, I pace the floor manically as I dial for Shame first. His disposition would be calm compared to my current special brand of crazy. When I get no answer there, I hang up and start to make the next call on my list, Gunner. Fuck, someone answer the damn phone. Nothing from Gunner, either. Really?

  Finally, before my freak out reaches its peak, I hear laughing and the opening and shutting of car doors. I race to front door, looking outside this time. Once I see Shame step away from his truck I swing the door open, leaving it open behind me and take off towards him. He sees my concern and senses my panic, and meets me with open arms. Then, by all accounts, I lose it … completely.

  “Someone was here, just now. They were asking about Hem, if I was his woman. My husband is dead and they ask if I’m his woman? Shame, please, I know you have to know what is happening. Please, you have to tell me. Jesus, they knew what Hem nicknamed me. No random stalker would know those personal things.”

  “Shhh, Sadey. Honey, you’re okay. Take a breath. Explain. Not a good time to get lost in emotion, baby. I need you here. Focus on me.” He motions with two fingers from my eyes to his.

  I do not have time for a fuckin’ Zen moment, nor is this the time to assume I’m sayin’ shit trying to be dramatic. What the fuck is wrong with these people? I’m giving it all to him, no backtracking. Let him figure out what to do with it.

  “That’s not all. In the bathroom Shame, go look. There’s a note stuck with a knife pinned to the wall. Oh my God. What the fuck is happening? Someone was inside my house! Where I live. Where my son lives.”

  I’m not mental yet, but I’m close. Shame just holds me tighter and walks me inside to Patrick. Honor and Gunner are both here and follow us inside. Mace hasn’t said a word, but her olive skin is pale.

  A few minutes later, Shame comes out of the bathroom, down the hall to us, and he is pissed. His jaw is working and his temple pulses to its beat. I’ve seen Shame angry, but this is a whole new level of fury.

  In his right hand, he holds the crumpled note. In his left hand, the knife that had pinned it to the wall. He immediately starts barking off orders to Gunner. “Cherry and Ace are on the way. Once they get here, I want you to take the girls to the club and stay there with them. Don’t let them leave your fuckin’ sight. Got that?”

  Shame is looking into Gunner as if to see if Gunner may have more information that he is still not sharing. His reaction to this entire situation is curious and nerve racking. How is he not out of his fuckin’ mind right now?

  My mind races with questions none of these people seem to want to answer. “I don’t know what it is you all are trying not to say in front of me, but enough. This is crazy. Mace spooks me at work, Cherry has
a ‘visitor’ while I’m gone, someone was in my house and put a threatening letter posted with a knife, and to top shit off, some scar-face, scary-ass man shows up and wants to know if I’m Hem’s woman. I’m walking the edge here. Someone better talk to me, damn it! This is my life!”

  “Wait, just wait.” Finally, Mace! Finally your ass is starting to wake the hell up. She’s grabbing her big stomach, as if she’s trying to hold her child. Her hands are shaking and she sways a bit.

  “I’m sorry. I just … my stomach is tight, is all. Sadey is right. If you guys know something, you need to tell us. The last secret, you know, you all know… it killed my brother.” She hesitates as she finishes her sentence because the tears start to take over.

  Shame walks swiftly to her and puts his hands on hers as she holds Ryder, protecting him, while he’s still inside her. I don’t need the emotional snapshot that eluded me during my pregnancy, but I can’t turn away.

  “Sweetheart, I’ve got this. I need you to take Sadey tonight. Take Kegs and Cherry, too. I’m going to ask Honor to come get Patrick and take him to Peril. Bloom can do as much as fuckin’ Bloom can do to help watch Patrick. Raider can help her. It will be fine.”

  I glance to Honor. He’s standing behind April and has his hands on her hips, gripping her to him, and his knuckles are white. Hell, if Honor is even nervous about letting go of April, then we have a big fuckin’ problem. She hasn’t so much as been approached and he’s nervous for her. What the fuck is coming at me?

  Freak-out commencing, starting … now. “Uh, no. That’s not happening… Patrick’s not leaving and I’m sure as hell not leaving my son with Honor and Bloom. Seriously? What the hell are you thinking, Shame? Jesus, how is it that I’m the crazy one out of all of us… because I hear dead people talking to me. You are considering leaving my son with Bloom, who let’s all admit, hasn’t a clue how to take care of herself, let alone my son.”

  That didn’t sound nice. “Honor, no offense directly at you, but I’m scared and fuck if you guys aren’t giving me answers, and now I’m cussing like a damn sailor in the Pacific and I don’t like it. So, either tell me what is going on, or I’m not moving, and you love me too much to hurt me by throwing me over your shoulder so soon after delivering, so it would just be easier on us all if you would please just talk.”

  Shame is at my side in a flash. Mace just stares at him and continues to hold her stomach as she winces in pain. I remember feeling Patrick punch me in the ribs. She has a little Shame in there, so she hurts the same.

  Shame bends down, adjusting himself so he’s at eye level with me while holding my chin with his hand, griping it tightly, ensuring I don’t look away.

  This isn’t good.

  “Buddy, I’m about to piss you off, so I’m going to say this as quickly as I can, because I can see you’re upset and I just do not have the time to hold your fuckin’ hand through this shit that I’m walkin’ knee deep in right now.

  “Get your fuckin’ shit, Sadey. Do what I tell you and don’t argue with me about this. Whatever that fuckin’ animal was doing here in your house does not spell ‘good’. You are going to go out with the girls as planned. You are going to have Gunner there, along with some of the other brothers. You are sure as fuck going to let me have Honor take Patrick away tonight, and lastly, you are going to shut the hell up.”

  He stops, daring me to open my mouth to raise an argument. Frankly, I’m passed pissed right now, so I don’t have anything to say, but of course, he’s not finished.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying to you or do you need me to stop wastin’ my fuckin’ breath on this and move you where I need you to be my-own-fuckin’-self?”

  “Wow, asshole. I would just rather…”

  His face turns from angry to vehement. From the side I see Gunner approaching, putting his hand on Shame’s shoulder, trying to get Shame’s attention away from me, but Shame’s way too pissed to let it go.

  “Rather? Fuck that, Sadey… you would rather, what exactly? Rather make decisions that you don’t know anything about and do what? Fuck. Just months ago I buried my best fuckin’ friend and now you’re asking me to just leave you in probable danger and let you run this? Get your shit, Sadey. You are wasting my fuckin’ time.”

  Shame has never talked to me like this, ever. He is livid right now because he thinks I’m trying to take away his control. Hell, I know what that’s about. Hell, I understand what it’s about. He’s reflecting on the night he was too late to get to Hem.

  Hood had already been there by the time Shame arrived. He had just subdued Warren shortly before. Shame was devastated when he absorbed the scene and what had happened. Shame finished Warren off, Hood had allowed that. Shame completely gutted Warren during the initial news that his lifelong best friend, Hem, was dead. Even in angry biker mode, Hood knew Shame needed that for closure.

  It would not matter if I objected to any of this. He would make me do whatever he wanted. “Okay, but Shame, you know what you’re doing … right? You have to promise me, you know what the fuck you’re doing?”

  Instantly, once I conform, he softens. “Yeah, I got this. I just can’t do it if I’m fuckin’ worried about Hem’s girls. Go. Once I’m sure all is okay, after I make some calls, then I will text Mace and the boys that you can come home and Honor will have Patrick here in the mornin’, first thing before the little shit starts to cry for his mom. Fair?”

  “Yes, fair.” As I gather my ‘shit’ I hear another car door. Shame is all over the door. No one unwelcome could come or go unless an automatic weapon was used. Shame is massive and he takes up the entire space. I hear Cherry laughing and when I see Ace, I sigh. Seeing Ace gives me some peace. He hasn’t left me yet, even though I’ve been a terrible person to him.

  Chapter Ten

  “When I saw her I was in love with her. Everything turned over inside of me. She looked toward the door, saw there was no one, and then she sat on the side of the bed and leaned over and kissed me.”

  -Ernest Hemingway

  Leaving my house once the chaos, well Shame, settled, we made our way to Shell Horn’s. My mind isn’t here. I watch all my friends dance and try having a good time. I’ve relieved Mace of her ‘watch drink’ duties and her big ol’ self is now attempting to dance. However, it’s more like she’s just swaying back and forth slightly. She’s smiling a little, so I’m thinking she doesn’t realize she looks like a beached whale out there flopping, surrounded by minnows. Hot guy, good friends, no crazy stalker headed her way. Nope, I still don’t feel sorry for her.

  I’ve sent the last text to Honor, making sure Patrick is all tucked in safely for the night. I’ve driven the man nuts. I don’t give two shits about that. Shame has told Mace all is quiet and undisturbed back at the house, but he plans to stay the night there with me since I’m being “nothing less than a difficult wench” – his words, per Mace. He doesn’t trust me to take care of myself, so he’s staying. Again, two shits … not given.

  “Are you going to sit here all night on my L-A-S-S-T night here?”

  Shit, Peyton spelling words out on a normal day can get annoying, but now she’s well into her fourth drink that she’s actually misspelling words. Jesus, how is she standing after four of those damn watermelon drinks? She’s so tiny.

  “Yes, I am. I’m watching drinks so ‘Shamu’over there can enjoy a dance or two or friggin’ ten. It’s about time we head out anyway. I’m ready to go. Cherry and April will ride with you and Honor back, I’m going to take Mace home with me so she can take Shame’s truck once we get back to my place.”

  “Do you want me to st-t-tay with you? Cause S-s-sadey, I will.” Great, now she has the hiccups.

  “No. Derek is going to be waiting for you, honey. I’m sure he’s ready for you to get home. Hell, it’s already past midnight. He’s probably already packed up the entire house by now, waiting to take his woman and ride off into the sunset. I will see you before you leave though, you can stop and say goodbye, like
you promised.”

  She doesn’t acknowledge the time or anything else I said after the word ‘no.’ She casually just gets up and starts walking towards the dance floor in effort to ignore my request to call it a night.

  Gunner notices from across the room and I nod, signaling him to round up the ladies and gents so we can go home. Shame and Ace are probably either sleeping, fighting, or scoping everything out around the house for the eighth time in an hour. Now that I’m out, I don’t really want to go home. I’m too freaked about what happened earlier, but if Shame stays with me, I’m going to sleep well.

  Walking in the front door, Mace and I can see right away that I was right. Shame is sleeping soundly in my recliner and Ace is lying on my couch, yet again. He’s becoming a fixture in my house and I don’t really mind. I’m surprised by my reaction.

  “Shame, baby. Wake up, honey.” Mace lays her hand across his cheek and watches his eyes open and try to focus out of sleep. “I’m going to go home. My stomach is still tight and your son is shadow boxing like Ali up in here. I feel like he’s karate kicking a rib, then right jabbing my left ovary.”

  I feel bad for making a nearly nine month pregnant woman go home alone. I can sleep at the club, or at Honor’s with Patrick.

  “Mace, just let me pack my stuff. I will go with you.”

  Shame is awake, but not completely. He grabs a hold of Mace and pulls her down onto him in the chair. He rubs her belly with a small smile. It’s dark, other than the light from a muted television, so she probably doesn’t even notice how content he looks as he holds his unborn son with his giant hands. One day, I think to myself, I will have this again.

  “Sweetheart, if Ace is already asleep, I can let the little fucker sleep on the couch, if Sadey doesn’t care. Think it has already been established that if anyone were to come within a mile of Sadey intending harm, the person would be asking for a long, painful death.”

 

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