by Debra Kayn
She rocked back on her heels when the truth sunk in, and he held her in front of him. There was no way to soften the truth. She needed to understand the consequences. He'd built Moroad MC to last a lifetime. Desperate men pledged their lives and would die for their club. If he let one man out, everything he built from the ground up would fall apart. Men would die. Men would go to prison. Men would come after Christina, Jeremy, because they were important to him. That's why he gave the patch to Jeremy. It was the only way to protect them all.
Christina's spine stiffened and her hand shot out. His head whipped to the side under the power of her slap, quickly followed by warmth covering his skin.
He let her go, not taking his gaze from her. If she believed she'd get another shot at him, he'd stop her.
"Fuck you," she said, through gritted teeth.
He continued to watch her, letting her figure out their options on her own. He'd spelled everything out for her. There were no other choices. He'll, he didn't want the kid dead. He also didn't like the idea of spending the rest of his life in prison. Not when Christina was on the outside, and he'd do whatever it took not to leave her again.
"You never planned to tell him," she whispered, retreating from him. "You lied to me the whole time."
He widened his stance. "Just say the word and I'll tell him the truth."
Her face contorted, pinching her brows and curling her upper lip. "And get him killed?"
He remained quiet. She understood, and she hated him. He'd make her come around. She'd learn to accept his decisions.
"I can't..." She shook her head without finishing her thought and walked into the house.
The door banged shut. He exhaled heavily and turned his back to the window. He did what he had to do. Jeremy was better off with Moroad MC. Someday, she'd forget the crime he committed.
He walked to the end of the porch, reached into his back pocket where he kept the letter where she asked for his promise, and unfolded the paper. For some reason, he couldn't set this particular letter in the bundle he kept in the pouch on his motorcycle.
He ran his finger over the edge of the paper and read.
Dear Cam,
Yesterday, I walked down the road as soon as the sun came up. I planned on walking to town, using the money you put in my purse months ago when you were home, and renting my old room back above the coffee shop if it was still available. Half way there, something stopped me. I sat near the river and watched the water rush past me. I kept waiting for reality to set in and the tears to flow, knowing I gave up on us. I've cried almost every day in private since you were arrested. I don't show Jeremy how hurt I am or your men. Anyway, that day the tears never came. I couldn't even pull out any anger or sadness. I was numb. I felt nothing. That blah feeling was worse than hurting. I hate feeling alone and not seeing the future. I want to hurt, I want to miss you, I want to hate you, I want to feel all those emotions that come with you in my life.
I know you won't understand what I'm going through, and that's okay. I don't tell you this to hurt you, but to show you how I'm afraid I'm losing what I found when I was with you. I don't want to go back to how I lived before meeting you.
To move forward, there's one thing that you must do for me if I'm going to accept my life with you. You must tell Jeremy the truth when you come home. I know I don't have many boundaries that you haven't crossed and I've failed to follow through, but when it comes to Jeremy, I need your word that you'll be honest with him.
My one question to you is will you tell Jeremy the truth? For me?
Love, Christina
P.S. Obviously, I never made it to town. I came home, because I need you.
Cam folded the letter, put it back in his pocket, and reached for a cigarette. His chest tightened. He'd almost lost her.
She had no idea that if she had made it into town and moved out on him, he would've brought her back. There was nowhere in the state of Idaho she could've gone and escaped him. She belonged to him, and he'd do anything to keep her.
He couldn't tell her the truth from prison about what would happen to Jeremy if he confessed. Now that she understood the significance of keeping his crime secret, she'd drawn a new line between them. Only she could decide how far she wanted to push him, and she'd be responsible for her choices.
Chapter Ten
Ten minutes after Cam left on his motorcycle, Christina tucked the pistol she normally carried in her purse under the pillow on the bed. Then she'd stood in the room for an hour wondering how her life had come full circle, back to fearing Cam and the power he held.
From experience, she'd dealt with death. Deeply mourning her parents until she herself wanted to die to escape the pain and sadness. At eighteen years old, she lived through the worst thing she could've imagined. She had faced the fact her mom and dad were never coming back. Final. Done. Over.
What Cam committed by setting up Jeremy's future without asking his permission and breaking the law hurt her more. She had no name for the emotion coursing through her body. Maybe anger, maybe denial, but mostly fear. She had to do something, and not sit back and let Cam ruin Jeremy's life.
Yet, she couldn't forget where Jeremy came from.
His mom was a drug addict who neglected him. Jeremy even admitted having relief when his mom passed away. He finally had a home, food in his stomach, clothes on his back. Cam provided him with the necessities every child needed, and Jeremy never took anything for granted. Was it right to interrupt his life now that he'd found a place where he thrived?
Her eyes burned. She blinked, but there were no more tears. When she'd come inside the house and left Cam outside, she'd tried to call Jeremy. He needed to come home. As the only person who would understand her position, Jeremy needed to understand what Cam planned to do. When he'd taken the oath, sewed on the Moroad MC patch, he believed he'd found his family. Did he even understand that he signed his life away?
Now she was thankful he hadn't answered her phone call. He needed the time with Tiff to be young and carefree. The only thing he needed to worry about was how much longer he'd have until he could see Tiff again, not if the man he thought was his father would kill him.
That's what the whole lie about Cam being his dad came down to now. Jeremy was a Moroad MC member. Live with the lie, or die.
She tried to find the good, but only the bad stood out. Cam committed a crime. Once again, he forced others to pay for his actions. What would be next? Would he use her? Would he hurt Jeremy? Would she lose him again?
She walked out of the room and went straight outside. On the porch, she peered down the road. There was no sign of Cam, the motorcycle, or dust to announce his arrival.
Hurrying across the yard, she knocked on Merk's travel trailer. Afraid Cam would come back before she could talk to Merk, she stared down the road for any sign of his motorcycle. She shook her head, snapping herself out of caring what Cam thought. At least Merk never lied to her.
The door swung open and Merk filled the small area of the doorway. "Yeah?"
The strength she'd used to hold herself together fled. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She was the only one who could protect Jeremy against Moroad. Stumbling back, she shook her head, changing her mind. She couldn't talk this over with anyone, especially Merk.
Merk jumped out of the trailer and wrapped his arm around her waist.
"Whoa, sweetheart. Hang on," he said. "I've got you."
"I'm okay." She wasn't okay.
"Do you need to sit down?"
"I'm fine." She wasn't fine.
She pressed her hand to her forehead. She had to talk to Jeremy and convince him not to go after Cam or run away. He needed to dedicate his life to Moroad and accept what happened if he wanted to live to see tomorrow.
Her vision blurred and a wave of dizziness left her clutching Merk's vest. "Maybe that'd be a good idea."
He led her back across the lawn. "I'll take you inside and get you some water."
"I don't want to g
o back in the house," she said.
"Then we'll sit on the porch." He stepped up on the deck, taking her weight. "Sit down before you fall down."
"I'm fine." She let her legs sprawl out in front of her down the steps. "Really. I'm just..."
Her whole body tingled, weak and slow. She inhaled a deep breath and bile burned her throat. The top of her head wanted to pop off and she thrust her hand into her hair and looked at Merk, sitting beside her and frowning. For some reason, the flare of his nose—and it was a nice nose, straight and manly— caused a ripple of amusement in her chest, and she laughed.
The bubble of noise hurt her ribs, her chest, her stomach. She never protested when Merk reached over and dragged her to his side, wrapping his arm around her. Her head fit naturally against the soft spot on his shoulder.
The manic noise continued to rip from her soul. She wanted to close her eyes and when she opened them again, she'd feel normal.
"I'm going to fuckin' kill him," Merk said.
She raised her head and pulled away from him. "Why?"
To tell Cam's secret would put him in prison and be the death of Jeremy. She couldn't trust any of the Moroad members, including Merk.
"He's hurt you."
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
"Bull shit." Merk clasped his hands in front of him and braced his elbows on his knees. "Last time I saw you like this, I'd arrived at the house straight from prison."
"That was almost two years ago," she said. "I'm okay, really."
"I should beat your ass for lying." Merk stood, walked out into the yard, turned, and came back in front of the steps. "You're not mine, and there's nothing I can do. But, I swear on my life, if he hurts you, if he breaks you, if he fuckin' ruins your life, I will rip his vest off of him, and burying the son of a bitch six feet under."
She stood, swayed, and grabbed the railing. "You can't do that. The club means everything to Cam. It's what he lives for."
"Maybe he should start living for you." Merk paused, looked away, and when his pained gaze came back on her, he said. "I'm not afraid to talk with the others and overrule his position."
She opened her mouth and stopped herself from saying anything more. Cam would never put her first in his life. From the beginning, she understood how much the club meant to him and the others. To take everything away from Cam, he'd die in prison. He'd go after each man that turned against him. She'd be responsible for each life taken.
"I shouldn't have knocked on your trailer," she said.
"Sweetheart, you're anything but fine and one day you're going to break and I won't be here to help you." Merk shook his head, walked across the yard, and opened the door of his trailer, shutting himself inside.
Closed off from relying on anyone else for advice and direction, she dropped her head in her hands. She'd made a bigger mess. Merk needed to stay out of her and Cam's business, and she kept drawing him into her drama. All her problems catapulted into a situation she no longer had answers for and Cam, who always remained her voice of reason, was the root of her problem. She was damned if she pressed the matter of Cam's paternity of Jeremy, and damned if she stayed out of Jeremy and Cam's life.
She wanted to protect Jeremy. She sighed loudly in defeat. It wasn't as if Jeremy was a child. He was eighteen years old, and even during his teenage years his mother thrust him into the position to be responsible for himself and take care of his mom. He'd grown up without having a carefree childhood, and now he belonged to the club. Cam became his parent, his advisor, his protector.
Was it fair of her to take everything he loved away from him, because she wanted Cam to do the right thing and confess his crime?
Once again, she could see both sides of the problem. She fisted her hands and took them away from her face. She wanted to protect those she loved as much as Cam. They were on the same side.
Club rules sucked. She failed to understand the importance of an organization and how secrets and loyalty were more valuable than a person's life.
If living as part of normal society stunted a person's freedom, how could belonging to a criminal society be better? Either way, people lived inside their own personal prison.
The rumble of an approaching motorcycle came from her left. She turned her gaze and spotted the dust cloud forming on the road. Not wanting anyone catching her upset, she wiped her cheeks with her hands and inhaled deeply. Maybe nobody would notice the storm raging inside of her.
The rider rode closer. Christina sagged in relief. Jeremy was home.
Parking his motorcycle in the gravel at the edge of the lawn, Jeremy reached down and fiddled with the side of the bike, and then climbed off.
Love for Jeremy squeezed her heart. He never gave her any trouble, beyond teasing her. Many nights they both stayed up talking, watching television, and hanging out together. Once he'd learned to relax, he delighted in giving her a bad time about her kidnapping and trying to fight Cam. Jeremy helped her realize she never wanted Cam to let her go. Her relationship with Jeremy meant the world to her; it was outside the constraints of a male-female connection and settled into being one about family. He was like the little brother she'd always wanted.
Jeremy stopped in front of the porch. "Hey."
"Hey, you." She glanced at the road to make sure Cam wasn't coming to the house. "I tried to call, so you probably have a voice message you can ignore."
"What did you need?" Jeremy sat down beside her, his legs a foot longer than hers.
During his senior year of high school, he'd grown four inches, and now finally he'd reached his adult height. She shook her head. "It was...about dinner, but you're here now, so I know to fix you a dish too. Are you sticking around after you eat?"
"Yeah, until it's time for the run." He bent his legs and leaned forward. "Stache called everyone earlier and told us to stay quiet tonight, because we're doing the run earlier than normal. So, I think everyone's coming over and having a bon fire."
"Oh..." She picked at the loose thread at the edge of her shorts, believing she'd always be the last to know the club's plans. "What's going on that everyone needs to stay out of town?"
"Stache didn't say, and I didn't ask." Jeremy shrugged and gazed around the yard. "Cam's not home?"
She lifted her gaze and studied the road, hating the loneliness when he was gone and hating herself more for missing him when she couldn't stand to see him right now. "No, he must've gone to town."
"He should be here soon, since we're all leaving early." Jeremy leaned closer, peering at her intently and frowning. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," she said.
"You've been crying." He rubbed his hands against his jeans. "It's not like you can hide the way your nose gets red and your makeup is smeared underneath your eyes. You're sniffing a lot, too."
She elbowed him. "I can always count on you to make me feel butt ugly."
Jeremy grinned. "That's what I'm here for."
"Well, your job is complete then." She stood up and ruffled his hair. "Want to help me make dinner?"
"You need the company?" He followed her up onto the porch.
She wondered how a boy who craved intimacy and received no emotional support growing up could be so in tune with her moods. She was a regular basketcase lately, and Jeremy continued to support her. Their roles were messed up, and she wanted to be the strong one and provide a solid foundation for him. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Then let's make dinner." He opened the door and when she stepped past him, he stopped her. "I don't think he'd ever hurt you, but if you need to leave for whatever reason, I would do anything to make sure he never finds you."
Emotions clogged her throat and she swallowed to keep them from escaping. "I'm fine—she faked a smile—but, thank you. That means a lot."
In the kitchen to get her mind of off Cam, she tossed Jeremy the bag of lettuce and pulled out a package of frozen chicken tenders. While she worked preparing dinner, she kept glancing at the clock. Before their talk, Cam never mentio
ned having anywhere to go and she worried his absence meant he planned for the inevitable. She never gave him an answer, and she feared he'd take her reaction as permission to move forward and tell Jeremy the truth.
Jeremy rinsed off the knife he used to chop the tomatoes. "Looks like we're going to eat without Cam if he doesn't hurry back."
She turned down the oven, slowing the cook time. After leaving the chicken in ten minutes longer than necessary, she gave up waiting for Cam and dished her and Jeremy's plate. Not hungry and not in the mood for conversation, she watched Jeremy shovel food into his mouth. The sound of motorcycles broke through the house, and Jeremy put his dishes away.
She waved him away when he asked if she wanted help cleaning up. Alone in the kitchen, she shoved her chair under the table. The napkin holder in the center toppled over at the force.
Anger crept up on her and pushed the worry over Cam acting out without talking with her first. She loaded the dishwasher, set Cam's plate in the fridge, and walked out to join the others.
Merk raised his gaze from the fire and caught her eyes. Her stomach fluttered at the intensity coming from him. She walked along the porch, unable to look away from him and wondered how he could see her in the shadows. At the end of the porch, she leaned against the railing, hoping to hide out from everyone else until she calmed down. With dealing with Cam and Jeremy, she had no energy to deal with Merk.
How could she have missed Merk's feelings toward her change from friendship to attraction?
Earlier, she'd taken the comfort he offered and let him hold her. All this time with Cam in prison and he'd never once hugged her, touched her, or even acted as if he wanted to kiss her. There were times in the past where Merk witnessed her world crumbling, and yet, Merk supported her by keeping her company, talking, and even silently standing by and watching over her. She caught her lip between her teeth. His presence in her life brought her comfort.