A Ride or Die Kind of Love

by Chelsea Camaron

  She rushed to me, deciding that tears weren’t going to get her what she wanted, and she was all over me before I knew what she was doing. She’d unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans before I could get a hold of her and shove her back. Normally, I’d just let her try and make her point and then leave anyway—might as well get a blow job if the bitch is begging—but the thought of her mouth on me just didn’t do anything for me since Brenna had shown up. I shoved her away from me and buttoned my jeans back up easily. Even with her hands all over me, I wasn’t hard at all. Fuck, I didn’t want to be dealing with this drama right now.

  Before she could grab me again, I was out the door and on my bike. She stood at the front door and when I yelled up, “Lock the fuckin’ door!”

  She smiled at me, and I could tell she was going to be a problem.

  I hit a couple of stores in town before I headed back to the club. I stuffed all the shit into my saddlebags and checked my phone for missed calls. Grease had called a couple of times, but he hadn’t left a message, so I figured it was nothing important. I noticed that it was time to head back to the club though, so I cracked my neck and decided to stop stalling. Showtime.

  When I got to the club, there was only one brother guarding the gate, a recruit called Curly. The kid’s head was bald and shiny as a cue ball and was glistening in the sun. He gave me a small smile as I rolled through the gate, but it looked like the kid was more nervous than I was. He was probably freaked that he had to stand the gate alone. Recruits weren’t allowed at the house for shit like this, and the only other recruit we had was up at Brenna’s house, making sure she stayed put.

  I could hear everybody talking inside the main room, but everyone quieted when I stepped through the door. I looked around the room and found Grease, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. It looked like he was sweating, which was fuckin’ weird because it wasn’t hot out today.

  “Dragon, you ready for this?” Slider stepped up next to me.

  “The fuck kind of question is that?” I asked him, but I was actually a little glad he came over. It gave me a little more backbone, and my chin lifted a little higher.

  We walked out of the main room and headed into an empty garage bay. All the brothers circled around with Slider, Grease, and me in the middle. I looked over to Grease, wondering what the fuck he was doing when Slider started to speak.

  “Dragon here’s been lying to his brothers for five long years. He not only disrespected Poet, but then he hid the disrespect, so Poet had to find out five years later. Grease also knew about shit and never spoke up. Poet, Tommy Gun, Razor, and myself had us a little meeting this morning and decided their punishment. While Dragon was the one who fucked Brenna, Grease did his part in this little fiasco and helped him hide it. Each one of you gets one hit. Bare hands. I’m not taking part, but Poet goes last. Make them good, and all of you remember this. I won’t be so lenient if I have to deal with this shit again.”

  I was stunned silent for a minute that the punishment was gonna go so easily, but then everything clicked, and I realized Grease was still standing next to me, and the other brothers were lining up.

  “Boss! Wait!”

  Slider slowly turned around.

  “Grease shouldn’t be here. He fuckin’ warned me, but I didn’t listen. He’s fuckin’ stupid, but he shouldn’t be up here.”

  Slider stared at me a second, and then I watched his lips turn up. “You gonna take his punishment? I promised my boys two hits, not one.”

  I didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll take it—”

  Grease finally looked up at me. “Don’t do this, man. It’s fine.”

  “Get the fuck outta here. But you hit me? I’ll knock you the fuck out.” I gave him a little shove. Still really fuckin’ happy that this shit wasn’t what I’d been thinking. I had one more thing to say, and I found Poet in the crowd. “No hits to the face, yeah? Don’t wanna freak Trix out when I go home tonight.” I held his stare until he nodded, and then I faced the boys and braced myself.

  By the time there were only a few brothers left, I was seriously thinking I’d underestimated the punishment. I also figured out why Slider had smiled when I decided to take Grease’s hits. The sneaky fucker had set me up. My ribs were on fire, and I’d already puked my fuckin’ guts out twice. The second time, I had nothing left, and the dry heaves almost made me pass out. It was hard to not fight back when fuckers are hitting you over and over again, especially when you lived your life fighting your way to the top. After the first ten brothers, I’d pretty much blocked everything out, except breathing and staying on my feet, and at that point, I wasn’t even halfway through. By the last ten, I was fighting to stay conscious.

  Finally, I caught a glimpse of Poet coming toward me, pushing brass knuckles onto his hands. I thought I muttered, “Oh fuck,” before he knocked my ass out.

  I was out for a while, and when I woke up, the boys had dragged me into my room at the club. Doc came in to see me, but I was pretty much out of it, so I just lay in bed for a few hours, glad I was still breathing. Finally, I got up, took the most excruciating shower of my life, and went out to have a drink with the boys. That was the best thing about this club and something I’d always craved growing up. You might fuck up, but the brothers wouldn’t ever act like you weren’t welcome. They’d punish you, but then it’d be over, forgotten. You’d be back in the fold. After getting passed from one home to another, whenever I got too hard to handle growing up, the Aces were like a sanctuary.

  Later that night, I walked over to Brenna’s place. I didn’t take my bike. Figured I’d give my ribs a rest for the night. The house was glowing, and I could hear some music playing. The front door was open, and before I opened the screen, I caught a glimpse of Brenna and Trix dancing around the kitchen. I felt my breath catch, and it was as if someone had his hand around my throat.

  The table was pushed against the wall, and two of the chairs were in the middle of the living room. The music was loud, and they didn’t notice me as I stood there, watching them. Brenna was wearing a little white tank top and a long skirt. Her shirt rested high enough, and her skirt was low enough that I caught a glimpse of her tattoo spanning her waist below her belly button. I loved seeing my name there even if she liked to pretend the tattoo wasn’t for me. By the way her tits were bouncing around, I knew she didn’t have a bra on. Her tits were fantastic, but the look on her face is what had me stopped and staring. Her cheeks were stretched in the most gorgeous fuckin’ smile. It lit up the fuckin’ room.

  I hadn’t seen that smile in five years.

  She was swinging her hips around, but Trix was like a tornado. She was bouncing up and down and pausing with the beat of the music. She had some little cartoon pajamas on, and her wet hair was whipping around her face. She’d obviously just taken a bath. Looking at her, I still couldn’t believe how much she looked like me, but now, I saw she had Brenna’s smile. It was the most carefree I’d seen my baby girl since she’d gotten here.

  Once the song sped up, they were both spinning around in the kitchen. Brenna’s red hair and Trix’s black hair were flying out in all directions as they danced. I caught a glimpse of their feet, and both of them were stomping on the cracked linoleum with the beat of the music. It reminded me of the powwows I was dragged to as a kid. I remembered an auntie telling one of my cousins to make sure her feet hit the dirt with every beat of the drum. Trix’s rhythm was crazy good for a four-year-old. She had that shit down. It was like they knew exactly what the other one was doing at all times as they twirled around each other in the tiny-ass kitchen. Their eyes were locked.

  My chest started to burn when I realized they were singing to each other. They were actually dancing around the fuckin’ kitchen and singing to each other. Trix looked at Brenna like she was the best thing she’d ever fuckin’ seen, and I was wondering if that was the look other people saw on my face when I looked at them. The song said something about belonging to each other and calling each other sweetheart with the las
t word dragging out as they smiled.

  I’d seen Brenna doing the Mom thing now for the last couple of days. I fuckin’ loved watching her do all of the simple things, like helping Trix brush her teeth. I loved the way she rested her hand on the top of Trix’s head when they were standing together, like she didn’t even know she was doing it. And I loved that she took the time to listen to every single one of Trix’s long-ass rambles about nothing in particular. But this? This totally carefree dancing-in-the-kitchen thing? It blew all of that other shit out of the water.

  I fucked up five years ago. Honest mistake, but there it was. Then, I was fuckin’ sneaky and didn’t say shit about it. If I woulda just listened to Grease and not gone down that road, life would have been fuckin’ easy for me right now. A couple of times this afternoon, I asked myself if I’d do it again, if it was really fuckin’ worth it. Seeing them acting like goofs dancing around the kitchen gave me my answer.

  They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my entire goddamn life, and they worth every fuckin’ bruise I had.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brenna

  I was dancing around the kitchen with Trix when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over toward the front door, and just as I was about to scream, I heard Dragon’s voice from the other side of the screen.

  “It’s just me, Brenna,” he said quietly as he swung the screen open.

  Trix paused mid-dance, staring at my face, waiting for the all clear. It broke my heart that she picked up on the smallest body language as if she were just waiting for something bad to happen. When she heard Dragon’s voice, she spun around and ran straight for him.

  “Papa!” she screamed excitedly, but as soon as she was about a foot away from him, she slammed to a halt and tilted her head up at him. “Why are you hurt? Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” And then, she gingerly wrapped her arms around his thighs.

  I didn’t notice anything off about Dragon until Trix had said something. Then, I noticed how he was holding his body. He wasn’t standing straight. His shoulders and back were slightly hunched over as if protecting the front of his body.

  I knew that stance.

  I looked up into his face and found myself walking closer as I noticed bruising around his jaw and a split in his bottom lip. I couldn’t read the look on his face.

  “Trix, it’s time to get ready for bed,” I told my girl who was still gingerly holding Dragon’s legs and was now soothingly rubbing her hand up and down the back of them. “Put your PJs on, get a book, and climb into bed. I’ll be in there in a few minutes to tuck you in. You can brush your teeth in the morning.” I waited for her to follow my instructions, but before she did, she tilted her head way back to look at Dragon.

  “I’m sorry you’re hurt, Papa,” she whispered, and I could tell my tenderhearted girl was about to cry.

  “Papa’s fine, little warrior. Don’t be gettin’ upset.” Dragon ran his fingers through her hair. “You better go get ready for bed like your mom told ya.” He started to bend over as if to give her a kiss, but he winced and straightened back up.

  I knew that if he couldn’t even bend over, something was seriously wrong, and I felt my palms start to sweat.

  As soon as Trix ran down the hallway, Dragon reached out and braced his hand against the wall. His entire body slumped as if exhausted. I had started to freak out when I knew he was hurt, but once he braced himself on the wall, I became completely calm. I remembered feeling something like this when Trix was a baby and started choking on a piece of fruit. I’d known I had to get it out, and I immediately did the baby Heimlich maneuver even though I hadn’t ever done it before. It wasn’t until after, when she was happily playing with her toys again, that I’d broken down. The same thing happened to me as I walked toward Dragon and reached my hand out to him. As soon as he grabbed hold, I led him into the bedroom.

  “Can you take off your shirt?” I asked him, surprised at how strong my voice sounded.

  “It’s fine, Brenna. Doc looked at it earlier. I just need to get some sleep.”

  He started to turn toward the bed, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “I didn’t ask if Doc had seen it. I asked if you could take off your shirt.”

  He got a weird look on his face, but he tried to reach behind his neck to grab his T-shirt. He didn’t get far before he dropped his hand down in pain. He didn’t say anything; he just lifted his chin and looked over my shoulder at the door. I felt my eyes fill with tears when I realized he wasn’t going to be able to get it off. Suddenly, looking at his wounds wasn’t nearly as important as taking off his damn shirt. Looking at it gave me a strange case of claustrophobia. I needed it off.

  “Okay, it’s fine. Just stay right there. I’ll be right back,” I told him as I spun around.

  I quickly checked on Trix, who was looking at a book, as I rushed down the hallway to grab some scissors from the top of the fridge. When I got back to the bedroom, Dragon was sitting down carefully on the bed.

  “I got some scissors. I don’t want to try to pull it over your head, so I’m just going to cut it, okay?” I asked quickly.

  “Close the door, so Trix doesn’t come in here,” he ordered.

  I closed the door and noticed there was no lock, so I wedged a shoe off my dresser to semi-lock it. As soon as I was done, I reached for the hem of his shirt and cut quickly up the front of his torso. What I saw on his body was worse than I’d imagined.

  His chest, belly, and ribs were one huge bruise, so dark I could barely discern the tattoos across his body. I felt the tears running down my cheeks as I slipped behind him, trying not to jostle the bed, as I pulled the rest of the shirt down his arms. His back was almost completely unblemished. I leaned forward to take a look at his chest again. Yep, it was just as bad as I thought. I didn’t understand how on earth only the front half of his body was this bruised.

  I started to question him. “What…” Aand all of a sudden it dawned on me. “Tell me this didn’t happen because of me,” I whispered. My tears were no longer running down my cheeks; they were pouring. I could barely see out of my eyes. “Tell me that my father didn’t do this to you.”

  He didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.

  “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. So sorry…” I was shaking in disbelief and horror.

  “Hey.” He reached up and brushed my hair back from my face, cupping my cheek. “This is not your fault, Brenna. You hear me? I’m an Ace. I knew what I was doing. This is not your fault.”

  I could barely understand him as I sat there, shaking miserably and staring into his eyes. It was like the only thing I was aware of was my colossal fuck-up and his beautiful dark brown eyes. Before I knew it, he was pulling me onto his lap.

  “Dragon, don’t! Your ribs!” I didn’t want him holding me because I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t wiggle away because that would make it even worse. I was stuck there on his lap, trying my hardest to keep from brushing up against the front of him.

  “I’m fine, Brenna. It’s over, baby.” He had one hand wrapped around my waist and the other on the side of my face, his fingers weaving through the hair behind my ear. “It’s over, baby. No need for cryin’. Now, we can move the fuck on from this shit. No more repercussions. Okay?”

  My tears were starting to dry on my face as I sniffled, and he gently rubbed his thumb across the apple of my cheek. It was like I was mesmerized by the look on his face, the way his body was wrapped around me.

  “Baby. It’s over for us. Not just me. It’s over for you, too. You don’t have to worry about people sayin’ shit to you, Slider bein’ pissed, none of it. It’s behind us.”

  He shifted forward, so the space between our faces disappeared, and I closed my eyes as he started to slowly kiss my face.

  I whispered, “Okay,” as he kissed me gently across my cheek, the tip of my nose, and my forehead.

  He rubbed his lips across the tears on my eyelashes,
and then I felt him lick his lips. That was the trigger. I didn’t know why that single movement made me catch my breath and lift my lips toward him, but it did. All of a sudden, I was begging him to kiss me. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting.

  This kiss wasn’t soft. The tenderness I’d felt just moments before was completely gone, and he instantly pushed his tongue between my swollen lips. He ran it between my top lip and teeth and then brushed it across the roof of my mouth. I shuddered. I wanted to push myself against him. My heart was beating so fast that I could hear it in my ears, and I wanted nothing more in that minute than to push him onto the bed and make sure that he was okay by tracing his body with my lips. I wanted to inhale him, to pull him into my body so deep that he couldn’t ever be hurt again. I knew I was thinking crazy. Nothing was clear between us, and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but I wanted him, right now. But he was hurt, and he was sitting on my bed, holding himself abnormally still, so I sat pliantly in his lap, taking whatever he had to offer.

  He kissed me for what seemed like forever, but still, it wasn’t long enough. His hand was clutched tightly in my hair, and every time he tugged on it, I felt small whimpers travel up my throat. Suddenly, he stood me up in front of him, and the minute I caught my balance, he lifted my tank top over my head. I quickly raised my arms to cover myself, but he grasped my wrists, and I was too conscious of his bruises to fight him.

  “Damn, Brenna. You’re more beautiful than I remembered.” His voice was low, and he was staring right at my breasts.

  I was totally embarrassed. Yes, he’d seen me naked before, but that was before I’d gained the massive stretch marks across my belly. I was hoping he’d be so mesmerized by my larger breasts that he wouldn’t even look farther south. My stomach used to be so smooth and toned. I’d had a belly button piercing that I proudly showed off whenever I could. Now, I could barely look at my own stomach, and there was no way in hell I’d willingly let anyone else catch a glimpse. My prayers that he would ignore everything but my boobs went unanswered. He let go of one of my wrists, and I stood there, frozen, as he reached up to trace the thickest scar on my belly.