by K. L. Savage
“No. You don’t need to see this,” Wolf says.
“Let. Me. Go!” I seethe and ram my elbow into Wolf’s stomach. I try to walk toward the two men I’ve never met before. Boomer lays limp in a pair of arms, hair dripping with water and his eyes are shut.
Even in death he looks so beautiful. His jaw catches the moonlight, and his shirt sticks to his body; this time it isn’t appealing. Not when his chest isn’t moving, and his golden-brown eyes aren’t on me.
The waves try to suck me back, the tide strong and relentless. The damn ocean is a murderer in itself. It’s beautiful, sure, but it’s violent, and it isn’t afraid to show its rage. I won’t let something as simple as water stop me from getting to Boomer. I lift my knee to my chest and heavily pound my feet into the waves to get to the shore. Boomer’s shirt is weighing me down since it is wet. My lungs burn, and my skin starts to tingle where the salt is causing the wounds to open again.
Boomer is laid on the sand, and the scary one pushes the other guy out of the way and leans down to see if he can hear a heartbeat.
He shakes his head.
“Oh, god!” I finally get to Boomer, his lifeless body, and I fall next to him. I push his wet hair back and rub his face. “You can’t leave me like this,” I tell him.
“Tongue, tilt his head back. Do CPR.”
Tongue, if that’s even his real name, does as the other man says and blows three breaths into Boomer’s mouth. His chest expands, then deflates.
On repeat.
And then one palm over the other, Tongue starts compressions. He’s counting, shaking his head with doubt when there are no signs of improvement.
“You have to save him,” I whisper.
“I’m not letting my family die,” Tongue continues to press against Boomer’s chest, and I swear I hear something crack. I reach for Tongue to tell him to stop and that he’s doing more harm than good, but Wolf pulls me away.
“He’s hurting him! Let me go! Let me go, Wolf! I swear to god! I’ll kill you if you don’t let me go,” I scream hysterically, watching as what was a life-saving measure turns into something cruel. “They’re hurting him.”
“It’s normal,” Wolf says. “It’s supposed to be intense. Sometimes ribs crack.”
Tears pool in my eyes as I watch Tongue fight to save Boomer. His long hair falls in his face, dripping with saltwater and sand.
“You don’t get to fucking die like this. Not after everything…” Tongue lifts his hands in the air and balls them into fists.
I don’t have enough time to stop him. He’s bringing his arms down at a fast, alarming rate, and when his fist collides with Boomer’s chest, the pain radiates to me and I gasp, collapsing in the sand as I wait for that sharp inhale from Boomer’s lips.
He can’t leave me. Where would I go? I don’t want to live a life without him. I’ve had that life before, and it did nothing for me. Boomer is the rejuvenation my soul needs. If he leaves me now, I’ll only be the girl who got taken, not the girl who got saved.
I’m only saved when Boomer breathes.
A small cough sounds, and Boomer rolls to his side, throwing up a ton of water. He lays his head in the sand and struggles to breathe. I crawl over to him on hands and knees, not caring how bad it hurts my wounds, and I cradle his head.
Tongue falls back to his ass and stares up at the sky. He looks exhausted from the exertion and endurance it took.
“You stupid fuck.”
I rip my gaze up to the man whose name I don’t know, and I’m about to open my mouth to tell him off when Tongue shakes his head. “Not now, Badge.”
Badge? What the hell kind of names are these.
“No! You stupid fuck. You tried to kill yourself? After what your sister has already gone through? Are you kidding me? Are you trying to kill her?” Badge yells, picking Boomer up by his wet shirt and ripping him from my lap.
Boomer’s agonizing cry rips through the air since a few of his ribs are broken. He’s still coughing and sputtering water, those luminous brown eyes of his barely blinking. I can live with that. Just as long as his chest rises and falls with life, I’m alright.
Badge’s voice chokes. “Do you have any idea what would happen to Reaper? To us? To the men who watched you grow. You’re fucking family.” He shakes Boomer. “Family! Are you trying to drive us insane? What the hell was that?” Badge finally breaks, bringing Boomer to his chest in a hug. “You have no idea how much we need you or how much you’re loved. What the fuck is going on with you, boy? Huh? What is it? Talk to us. We’re here, Boomer. We’re here.”
I can’t see Boomer’s face, but his hands tighten on Badge’s shirt, squeezing the water out.
“You can’t do that.” Badge lowers Boomer to the ground and cups his face. “You hear me? Do you get that? Do you know how many people love you? Answer me.”
“No,” Boomer gasps. “No. I didn’t think anyone would care if I was gone.”
Badge cups the back of Boomer’s head and lays it on his chest. “You’re wrong, boy. You’re wrong. If that isn’t enough, look at that girl over there. She about took down Wolf to get to you. And those tears, they aren’t fake. If you’re looking for a declaration of love, she’s standing right there.”
Boomer stumbles, gripping on to Badge as he takes a step forward, his eyes finally wide and alert as he stares at me.
Energy crackles and zings between us, and he does his best to walk to me, but he falls, cradling his ribs. I run to him and catch him, letting him rest his head against my shoulder. “I’m sorry, sugar,” he says, lifting his head. His forehead leans against mine, and I hold onto him tight, making sure nothing can ever take him from me again. “Never again,” he promises and kisses my cheek.
I was more afraid tonight than I was in those bikers’ basement as a captive. I think it’s because my life was over, and I came to terms with it, but then Boomer rescued me and gave me hope, and I was ready to be alive again; ready for something amazing to drown out the nightmare of what I experienced.
It’s fucked up. I should care more about my life, I suppose, but ideas change when the end is facing you. I truly believe every end has a beginning now.
And Boomer is mine.
14
Boomer
My chest feels like shit. Tongue really went full force on the CPR. I’m thankful, but my god. It’s been three days, and it still hurts like a motherfucker. No one has left my side, and to be honest, it’s pissing me off. I didn’t actually mean to drown myself. I don’t think I did. I don’t know. Fuck, I really have no idea. I didn’t want to die, but I wanted the thoughts to stop, just for a second.
Especially after what Badge told me. The thoughts tripled, sending me into a downward spiral, and I only wanted peace. I realized how much I fucked up after I dove into the water, and the current took me. I wanted to live, I just… I don’t know what happened. I guess I gave up, and that isn’t a good enough reason. I should’ve been stronger because Scarlett needs me and, in that moment, I failed her.
Right now, she’s with Homer and Wolf. They went to the next state over to take the girls to a hospital to make sure they’re alright. After I get the go-ahead from Scarlett’s doctor, I’m going to make my move.
“Get the fuck out of the way, Badge.”
Oh. Fuck.
No.
Nope.
That’s not who I think it is.
“Reaper, don’t go in there guns blazing, okay? He just—”
“I know what the hell he did.” Reaper’s voice carries loudly from behind the door, pissed off and sounding like he wants to kill.
“Reaper,” Badge tries to calm him again, but then the door is kicked in by a huge fifteen-size boot, ripping the old, cheap wood off its hinges.
“Shit,” I say, rolling off the bed into a standing position. I feel like a kid again, getting in trouble for starting trash can fires, but it’s more now. Reaper has invested in me, and I’m more than some kid now—I’m his kid. What I did, le
aving and then almost drowning… He’s going to unleash his fury on me.
“Jenkins,” he growls, stomping toward me with pure anger in his eyes, the promise of blood and revenge coming off him in waves. He stomps in front of me, wide chest heaving as he grips my shirt with his fists. He shakes me a bit, unsure of what he wants to do with me. His jaw tics, and his eyes flip from anger to relief, sadness, and betrayal. Reaper thought he was good at hiding his emotions, but I knew better. He let them show on his face more than he let on.
I prepare myself for a punch in the face, for the worst beatdown of my life, but Reaper’s dark eyes well with tears ,and he sniffles, yanking me to his chest so hard the breath escapes my lungs. A bit of pain makes me gasp, but I stand still as Reaper holds me.
Crying.
Reaper’s a big man, bigger than most of the guys in the MC. I’m not a small man either and, right now, I feel like a dwarf.
His body shakes and with slow, tentative moves, I lift my arms and tighten them around the man who took care of me most of my life. I’m a selfish fuck. I should’ve never left home, but then I would’ve never found Scarlett, so I don’t regret anything.
The hard thuds of other boots coming into the room has me lifting my gaze. Tool is there, brushing his beard with his fingers, Knives, Bullseye, and Poodle. Poodle is whistling, glancing anywhere but at me and Reaper, but Bullseye and Tool are looking right at me, and they don’t look as relieved as Reaper is.
I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to get that punch.
“What the fuck, kid?” Reaper leans back, and when I look at his face, I don’t see tears, but his eyes are red. “What the fuck!” he roars, shoving me with his hands.
There it is.
“You’re going to do that to me? To us? Just what the hell is wrong with you?”
I want to answer him, if I knew how. My mental state was slowly getting worse when I left Vegas, but finding Scarlett gave me hope, a reason to live.
It can’t be on her to fix me. I need to fix myself. As easy as it is to just let myself be and have her carry the burden, I can’t because I’m a better man than that. I’d like to think I am, at least. Last night doesn’t prove it, but I can be better.
“What about your sister? What about your dad? You think your dad would have wanted that? You scared the hell out of me when Badge called to tell me Tongue had to—” His voice chokes with emotion, and he stares down at his boots. “When Tongue had to revive you, and then to say he almost didn’t… Almost, Boomer.” He lets my nickname slip, and hearing it from him gives me hope. “Do you ever think I want to hear that my kid almost died?” He bangs his chest. “I just lost a fucking kid. I can’t lose you too. Do you hear me? Do you fucking understand me?” He slams me against the wall and fists my shirt, picking me up until the material rips, but it doesn’t give way. “Do you understand?” he asks again, and this one time a lone tear falls from Reaper’s eye. Just one.
But that one speaks a million emotions, a million words.
“I understand, Reaper,” I whisper and wrap my hands around his wrists. “I’m sorry.”
“Fucking hell, kid.” He slams me against his chest again. “I thought I had lost you to distance, but then almost losing you to your death fucked me up, Boomer. You can’t do shit like that.”
I nod, feeling emotions bubble up in my chest. I feel like a kid again. That lost little boy who had no idea where he belonged after his dad died. “I’m sorry, Reaper. I’m fucked in the head, okay? I’m fucked up.” I slam my palm against the side of my head when that little thought creeps back in, telling me that Reaper doesn’t mean a word, that I’m worthless and always will be.
I always disappoint.
I always mess up.
I ruin everything.
I deserve to die.
“I’m fucked up!” I scream again, slamming my hand against my head. “Here, right here, Reap. I’m fucked up. It won’t stop. It never stops. It goes on and on and on. I left because I wanted to get better, and I didn’t want to burden anyone because that’s what I am. That’s what I’ve always been. You don’t think I know that?” I clutch my chest when it becomes too hard to breathe.
A shadow falls in the door, and Tongue appears, tilting his head at me like he doesn’t understand why I’m freaking out.
Reaper grabs my hand from my head, stopping me from hitting myself again. “I fucked up somewhere if that’s what you really think. Whatever you think is wrong, we’re here for you. It’s what family is, Boomer. If you feel sick here”—he taps my head—“then you can’t feel here.” He presses his fingers against my heart. “You come to me. I’ll help you. Do you get that? You don’t leave us. You don’t leave Sarah.”
“Is she okay?” I ask, ripping my hand away from Reaper and make my way to sit on the bed. I grab Scarlett’s pillow and inhale. The shampoo she used the night before lingers, and my mind slowly stops torturing me. “Is she here? I want to see her,” I ask Reaper through cloudy eyes as I bring the pillow down to my lap.
Reaper shakes his head. “No. I didn’t want her to make the trip. She’s going through something personal. A few of the guys held back and stayed with her. She’s in good hands.”
“And she’s mad as fuck at you and didn’t want to make the trip,” Tool says, flipping the screwdriver in his hand.
“Tool,” Reaper scolds.
“What? It’s true. All of us are pissed, and while I feel for whatever you’re going through, what you did wasn’t right.”
“I know. I know that,” I say solemnly and rub the pillow with my hand. “You don’t get it. The club was never everything to me, and I needed to figure out why.”
“Did you?” Tool asks.
“I’m working on it.” I look at all of them and notice they aren’t wearing their cuts. Reaper must see my shock. and he sits next to me, releasing a heavy sigh.
“Badge told us the story. The last thing we want is to give any of the girls here panic. I also want to know more about this chapter. In order to do that, you and I need to go in and see exactly what they’re up to.”
I stand in a rush and look at everyone, shaking my head. “No.” I go to hit my head again and remember who I’m in front of. I can’t do that in front of them; it’s why they never knew. “No, it’ll be too late for that. These guys are assholes, Reaper. We can’t wait. Let’s just go in there and kill them. I’ll blow that fucking clubhouse up.”
“Send me,” Tongue says from another corner of the room.
He was just in the doorway. What the fuck. Maybe it isn’t me who needs my head examined.
“Tongue, not now,” Reaper says, holding his hand up to stop Tongue from saying anything else.
Tongue steps forward, and that’s when I see point studs on his boots, ready to do some damage. “We can send a message to them.”
“I already did that, and for some reason, they haven’t come here yet. They’ve stayed in the city.”
“But I want to,” Tongue says, his voice slightly whiny.
Reaper ignores him, rubbing his tired eyes. Tool sits in the chair by the round table and studies the room. “This would be nice if it wasn’t so old.”
“I’m going to help Homer redo it. Ruthless Kings have stolen enough from him.”
“The old man in the office?” Poodle asks, staring out of the curtain at the ocean. “This is such a pretty view. I can see why he wants to keep it.”
“Pretty view?” Tool looks over the mountain of his shoulder. “What are you? An agent of HGTV?”
“Why do you even know that channel?” Poodle spins around and points a finger. “It’s because you watch it too!”
“Do not!” Tool stands, and the chair falls to pieces at his feet, crumbling into chunks of firewood.
“Do too! That’s the only way. Tell ’em, Bullseye.”
“Shut up, Poodle,” Bullseye says. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, can we all shut up and get to the point of the problem? There are a few here
, and we only have so much time. It’s late.” Reaper stares at the time on his phone. “I need to call Sarah; she’s probably worried out of her mind. We’ve been on the road for days.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, but there’s one person I’m sending in here tonight before the girls get back.”
“Is this not everyone with you?” I ask, peering around the room.
“No. We brought Doc. He quit his job at the hospital, and now he works for us full-time. We told him what was going on, and he offered to come.”
“Why would you bring Doc in here?” There’s nothing physically wrong with me, and it will be a waste of Doc’s time to check me.
“So you can talk to him about this.” Reaper taps his temple, and immediately I feel like less of a man. I feel crazy.
“No, fuck that. I’m fine. I didn’t ask for that.” I throw the pillow on the floor and stand. “No. Get out. Out! Get the fuck out! All of you.”
Tool takes two steps in front of me, lifts his fist in the air, and swings. His knuckles hit my chin, and I stagger, slamming against the wall as I cup my jaw. I swear to God I see the fucking future with how hard he hit me. “What the hell was that for?”
“That’s for being an insensitive asshole. We drove four days to get here. Four fucking days. Your sister miscarried. The club has been up in arms about you, and you know what? I’m fucking sick of it. Get your shit together, stop acting like a spoiled little bitch, and get the fuck over yourself. You obviously need help, so get help, so you can be a better man to Scarlett, because who you are won’t fucking work. And if you won’t be a better man, I can be the one she needs. I hear she’s a pretty little thing.”
I lift my fist and let it fly. Of course, Tool is superhuman, and it would take a rocket to make him move. I slam my fist against his jaw, and he hardly blinks. “You won’t go near her.”