Absolution

by S. Kirkpatrick

  “How long has she had it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “Oh, about six or seven years I’d say. I don’t know what happened to that old one she used to have.”

  I nod my head at his timeline, knowing that I bought her a new bike right before the guys and I left for LA. The day I first saw her back at that shitty motel, I was in no state to pay close enough attention to recognize it. I was already fucked up about her before I even saw her that day, memories plaguing me just like they always have since the day I met her.

  “I bought her that bike.” I say quietly, throwing a few dollars down on the counter, and quickly making my way out of the bar before he can say anything else.

  I hop in my truck and start the quick drive to my shop while my mind and heart race so fast that I’m worried I might actually be having a heart attack. She’s got a lot of fucking explaining to do, that’s for damn sure.

  I arrive at the shop with zero memory of the actual drive, my body moving on autopilot since I walked out of Henry’s bar. I need a shower and a Redbull.

  Abel greets me, carrying a drooling sleepy Emery in his arms.

  “Shh, Max is asleep on the couch in my office with Breelle.” He says.

  It’s still early, we don’t open for several more hours. I’m surprised they’re even here yet. I’m always the first one here.

  I lean in and kiss Emery on her forehead, careful not to wake her up. They’re only a year and a half old, but my goodness they’re little hellians. Adorable, but hellians nonetheless. Which of course means that they have every single one of us wrapped around their tiny little fingers.

  I peek in on Max as I head through the shop and see her passed out with a chubby cheek smashed into her chest, drool dripping from Breelle’s lips. Max’s obedient and loving dog, Ollie, rests on the floor beside the girls. His head raises up to see who dares to interrupt his family while they’re resting. I smile at his loyalty, rubbing his head in appreciation.

  I quickly run up to my room to grab a blanket before running back down and lightly tossing it over the girls, being as quiet as I can. Apparently, the twins are still cutting teeth, making sleep a rarity in their house lately.

  Ollie rests his head on his paws, eyeing me the whole time. He may know and trust me, but he makes it clear that he’s not taking chances with his girls. He’d take me out if I ever posed a threat to them, regardless of who I am and how long he’s known me.

  I make my way to the back of the shop to take a quick shower. The weight of the new information I’ve learned, settling on me like a lead weight around my neck. I strip down, tossing my clothes in a basket off to the side, and step into the scolding hot water.

  As the water pounds on my bare back, I moan as a few of the knots that have taken up residency in my back let loose, giving me a little relief. I’m too damn young to feel so run down.

  Fucking Remi and all her goddamn chaos…

  I can’t do this shit anymore.

  Chapter Twelve

  Remi

  “Is he going to press charges?” I ask, worried that while I’m fighting to keep us all alive that Brody’s gonna end up thrown in jail for his testosterone levels raging to an epic high.

  “He wanted to, that’s for damn sure. Without giving him too much information, I convinced him not to so that he could keep your name out of everything. It didn’t take too much effort though, he knows what I do for a living.”

  “How bad is it?” I wince, remembering the crunch his face made under Brody’s fists.

  “Oh, he won’t forget Brody for a long time.” She snorts. “And I don’t think he’ll ever even look in your direction again. He may be buff, but it’s all for show. That guy wouldn’t know how to fight his way out of a paper bag.” She laughs, handing me a bottle of water.

  “I feel really bad.” I say, chewing on the edge of my lip.

  I mean come on, the guy thought he was going to go out with a girl, whip her around a little bit, make her come, and then maybe schedule another fun little adventure. The last thing any of us ever planned, was him literally almost dying at the hands of an animalistic Brody that none of us even knew would be there.

  “He doesn’t blame you, babe. Trust me. Men understand idiotic male behavior.” Liz says, trying to reassure me.

  “He came out of nowhere, Liz. I’ve never seen him so crazed before.”

  “In a weird way, it’s kind of hot. Having a man so ravenous that the mere thought of another man touching you sends him into a frenzy. Mmmm.” She says, licking her lips and doing a little shimmy.

  “You’re shameless.” I laugh.

  I tell her what happened in the back room, with Brody turning me into a horny puddle on the floor, and she practically deep throats her spoon as she licks the yogurt off of it.

  “I need to get laid.” She says on a sigh.

  “I’ve never been with anyone but Brody. I’ve never had the interest or the time. Even if I did have the time, he’s kind of ruined me for anyone else.”

  “Ah, a life on the run isn’t really prime dating real estate.”

  I nod my head, letting the conversation die there. There’s not much else to say. A part of me should be relieved that I’m officially not living on the run anymore, but I can’t let myself get too excited until this all over.

  Getting a library card has to wait a little longer.

  That damn bucket list is what caused this whole thing in the first place!

  Liz’s phone rings and I sit up so quick that my chair pops off of the floor with the movement. This is the call that we’ve been waiting hours for. She takes it in the other room, knowing that I’ll ask a thousand questions if I hear the one-sided version.

  I’m impatient today, I can’t help it.

  We’ve made a lot of progress, putting things into motion that can’t be taken back, and the thought scares me because my situation can only end in one of two ways.

  I die. Or they do.

  There’s no third door.

  “I got more info than I bargained for on that call.” She says, coming back into the room. “The paperwork has been filed under a different city so that should buy you a week at most before they find out it’s a ruse. And on top of that, Ruger is finally out of surgery. It was touch and go there for a little bit, but he’s gonna be okay.”

  I let out a breath, glad to know that my brother didn’t have to sacrifice his life for me when he’s already sacrificed so much.

  “Okay. That’s good news.” I say, wiping the sweat coating my palms onto my jeans. “Well, I’m gonna head to my shift at the bar so that you can go out to dinner with your dad. Keep me posted but…”

  “But don’t call the bar phone. I know. Who do you think taught you these rules?” She laughs, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before sending me out the door with the keys to her second vehicle.

  We’ve always had to play it safe, always be on guard, but now we’re playing in the big leagues and can’t leave anything to chance. It’s best to leave in a vehicle that I didn’t arrive in, that way if anyone did follow me, they have a little less assurance when I pass by in this car.

  I high tail it to the bar, wanting to make sure that Henry gets as much time with his daughter that he can get before our lives turn into the biggest game of chance we’ve ever played.

  I know Liz is going to try and convince Henry to leave town until all of this is over, but we both know that stubborn old man won’t leave if we’re in danger. He refuses to admit that he’s not as young as he once was. And we can’t be completely honest with him, a price you pay when you’re protecting the lives of everyone around you.

  When I pull into the parking lot, I notice that Henry must’ve had someone come to tow the crushed soda can that once used to be my motorcycle away, and my heart sinks. I know there’s no salvaging it but I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. Plus, I still had a few things strapped into the saddlebags that I couldn’t
get out because they were stuck where I couldn’t reach.

  Memories that can’t be replaced.

  The bar is thankfully still a little slow when I walk inside. The regular guys from the construction site just around the corner are already feeling comfortable. Hats and vests off, an empty stein in front of them as they nurse another. As long as they keep their hands to themselves, we won’t have any problems.

  Or I’ll just introduce them to the reason I was named Remington in the first place.

  “Hey, Henry, I’m here.” I say, coming around the bar and tying the half apron around my waist. “Liz said to tell you she’s taking you for dinner tonight.”

  He finishes pouring a beer from the tap and sits in front of one of the construction guys before he turns to me with a mischievous look on his face. If he thinks he’s going to try and barter his way into me not wearing my thigh holster tonight, he’s got another thing coming.

  “I already talked to my daughter and rescheduled to a different night.” He says, the smile on his face confusing me.

  What’s he up to?

  “You’ve already paid for me to be working tonight and I know there’s something important she wants to talk to you about.” I tell him, taking the fresh empty glass from his hands before he has a chance to prolong his night here any longer.

  He playfully swats at my hands, taking the glass away and sitting it on the counter before turning me and shoving me toward the back of the bar.

  “There’s a surprise waiting for you on your bed. You don’t have a shift tonight.”

  I open my mouth to argue but he throws a bar towel in my face to silence me.

  “I may be old, but I’m still the boss.” He chastises. “Now go.”

  Fine, I’ll go see what this mystery surprise is. But while I’m back there, I’m gonna call Liz and have her come yank her dad out by his silver hair if he doesn’t learn how to pick up on cues that are intended for saving his life.

  I eye a bowl of peanuts on the bar and grab a handful, throwing them at him. He laughs like’s twenty years younger, and throws a handful back at me as I duck behind the corner wall.

  “You’ll pay for that, little lady.” He laughs at my retreating form.

  I make my way through the back of the bar, mumbling under my breath as I untie the apron I just got in place. The stubborn old man won’t listen to reason, I swear. I grab my phone, dialing Liz’s number and she thankfully answers on the second ring just as I push open my bedroom door.

  The surprise Henry mentioned is sitting on my bed in the form of a giant man over six feet tall. Muscles rippling under his crisp white tee, hair slicked back, tattoos gleaming in the sun that’s slowly setting behind the blinds in the window directly behind him.

  “Hello?” Liz asks in my ear.

  “I’m gonna have to call you back.” I say, ending the call.

  “I had a fun little chat with Henry earlier.” Brody says, his sober voice laced with accusations and anger.

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up, alarmed at what the hell that nosey old man could have told him. Liz makes certain that Henry never has all the information, never letting him ask too many questions, and refusing to answer the ones he does ask. But there are still so many things that he does know. Things that I never wanted Brody to find out.

  At least not like this.

  “Uh, what did you guys talk about?” I ask, closing the door behind me and plastering my back to it once it’s sealed.

  “How about for once, you provide the explanations, Remington.” The use of my full name lets me know just how pissed off he is.

  I swallow my nerves, not liking the possibility of what Henry told him. But I promised him I would tell him the truth. I promised myself that I would finally be honest. Even if it means he’ll never want to see me again.

  Which let’s be real, there’s a very good chance of that happening.

  This is it. The moment of truth that I know he wasn’t prepared for, but the moment he deserves nonetheless.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know and in order for any of it to make sense, I need to go way, way, back. So you need to know that this could take a while.” I say, forewarning him in case he has pressing plans for the day.

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  I stutter out a breath that’s been choked inside of me for as long as I can remember. It’s now or never. I take a seat at the desk as Brody turns his body on the bed to face me. I start in the only place that will allow everything to make any sense.

  “Do you remember the nightmare I used to have?”

  “The one with the hands?”

  I nod my head, somewhat glad that the memory is still fresh for him.

  “It’s not just a dream. It’s a memory.”

  His eyebrows raise, confusion marring his perfect face.

  You see, I might not have ever spoken the truth in a way he understood, but by telling him about my reoccurring nightmare that I’ve had all my life, I was confessing things without him even knowing. Letting him in, the only way I knew how.

  “The first memory I have of my life is those hands. I remember being strapped down with hands suspended above me. Just like in my dream, some caressed me, some hit me, but they were real, Brody. The hands were all real.”

  My voice gives out for a minute trying to maintain the silence I’ve held onto for so fucking long. My body starts to shake a little, fighting against the impulse to hide my secrets where no one else can ever find them.

  But I push on, keeping my promise to both myself and Brody. They say nothing worth doing is ever easy, but that’s why it’s so goddamn important. Breaking a cycle takes more strength than digging my own grave just to keep my secrets buried. And my secrets are eating me alive, scarring me up from the inside out.

  “I was six years old in my first memories. From what I learned over the years, my father died a year before and my mother was a fucking wreck after that. The humanity inside of her died the same day my father did. My dad was the president of an MC back home. He wasn’t a saint by any stretch of the imagination. None of them were. They did a lot of illegal shit, and there were a lot of lines that they weren’t afraid of crossing to get the money and power they wanted. But they had one rule that my dad had no tolerance for. You don’t hurt kids.”

  I fidget in my seat as Brody’s body goes so still that I can’t even see his chest rising and falling as he breathes. I clear my throat several times, trying to force the words to come out.

  Before I can continue, Brody gets up and gently pulls me to sit on the bed with him. He wants me to be closer to him since he realizes that I’m not making eye contact while I tell this story.

  “Once my dad died, the MC was handed over to my uncle. He never met a line he wasn’t willing to cross if the price was right. And with my mom damn near catatonic, shooting heroin every day to numb the pain, with each day that passed, she forgot she had kids.

  “My uncle was all too happy to step in and mold her kids how he saw fit. And sadly there was no one around to stop him. He was able to move my brothers out of the house, setting them up in rooms at the clubhouse instead of our parent’s house where I was kept. He turned Colt, Ruger, and Wesson into soldiers, using them for his turf wars and he used me for expanding his other business ventures.”

  I feel Brody start shaking beside me, and I immediately feel the tingles in my nose, letting me know that the tears aren’t far behind. I’m expelling all the strength that I have just to power through reliving the nightmares I see every time I close my eyes. I don’t have the strength to hold back the tears as they fall. For the first time since I ran away, I allow myself to cry in front of someone else.

  “At first it started out with just him, helping himself to what he pleased, but soon he let others join in. If the price was right. And when you grow up surrounded by criminals and legitimate gangsters, there are enough fucked up people to pay a very steep pr
ice to hurt a defenseless child.

  “He pretended to the rest of the club that he wanted to protect me from the club life. He acted like him keeping me away from all of them was to ensure my innocence like my father wanted. For years, he lied to everyone while he duct-taped me to a mattress, drugged me, and allowed grown men to rape me until I blacked out. He stole my innocence and sold it to the highest bidder. All the while, he kept my brothers so busy selling drugs and guns, that there was never anyone around to hear me screaming down in the basement. There was never anyone around to see me crawling up the basement steps to wash the crusted blood off my body. There was never anyone to go to for help. I was all alone.”

  Although so many years have passed, even now I can recall the searing pain that shot through my body when the drugs my uncle injected in me wore off. It’s why I’m so adamant about not allowing any type of mind-altering substances to ever enter my bloodstream.

  It’s why I don’t even drink. I never have. I never want to risk my consciousness.

  I can remember in gruesome detail what it was like to have him sit on top of my six-year-old body and laugh in my face as he drew blood between my legs. I remember the pain I felt the very first time and every time after. I remember the smile that distorted the scars on his face as the tears slid down my cheeks in agony. I remember the smell of vodka and cheap cigarettes on his breath.

  I remember everything.

  “After a few years, he recruited a few new guys to his cause. They were apparently the first guys he ever brought into the club, so he was sure that they were as fucked up as he was. I remember the first time he brought them down to the basement. It was the first time anyone wearing my father’s emblem had come down there. I was naïve enough to think that they were there to save me. I was wrong. They were recruited to be my guards, to hold me hostage so that when I got older, I couldn’t escape. They got a cut of the money my uncle was rolling in and free reign on my body as a reward at the end of their shifts.”