by Lane Hart
I nod my agreement, even though I hate that it’s the truth.
Verek
* * *
I’m not ready to leave, but if I don’t stop myself now, I’ll cave and try to stay with Tessa, even though that’s impossible. Roman will never let me near her, not until he has time to calm down. Which is why I know it’s time to face the music and begin the waiting period.
“Come on, sweetheart. We better get going.”
“Okay,” she agrees reluctantly.
Outside the boathouse, Cannon and Conrad are standing beside their bikes. While Tessa gets comfortable on mine again, I go over and tell them, “I appreciate you both helping me.”
“You’ll owe us one,” Cannon says as I share a quick embrace with him and Conrad both since it could be a while before I see either of them again.
“Take care of yourself,” they say at the same time in that eerie twin way.
“You too,” I reply before I head to my bike and get my helmet on. I don’t ask Tessa if she’s ready again, afraid she’ll say no, and then I’ll do something insane, like try to take her back to my place tonight.
I just climb on and then drive us over to Roman’s house.
When we stop, I let Tessa climb off first, keeping my helmet on since I won’t be staying long.
She hands her helmet to me after I pull her purse out of the saddlebag.
“Thanks,” she says. “For everything.”
“Anytime,” I reply, meaning it. I would kill anyone and do anything for her.
The lights flip on inside the house right before the door opens.
“You should probably go on inside. I’m sure they’re worried.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Tessa replies with a nod. “Bye, Verek.”
“Bye, sweetheart,” I say just as Roman comes charging out of the side door.
“Uh-oh,” Tessa mutters.
“Go on inside. It’ll be fine,” I assure her, so she hurries up the steps to the deck.
“Are you okay?” I hear Roman ask her when they meet halfway down.
“Yes, of course,” she tells him. “Don’t give Verek a hard time. I was the one who convinced him to go after those men.”
“He disobeyed a direct order,” Roman grits out. “So he and I need to have a fucking talk,” he grumbles before he jogs the rest of the way down the stairs.
By talk, I can only assume he means fight. If I hit him, I’m fucked. If I don’t, I’m probably also fucked.
The door opens again before Tessa gets to it. Charlotte comes out, yelling, “Roman, calm down!”
“Both of you get inside now!” he shouts, pointing his finger toward the house while I pull my cut out of the saddlebag and sling it over my arm.
“Don’t you even think about coming in my house,” he warns as he stomps toward me in the driveway.
“I wasn’t,” I assure him while still standing by my bike. “I just wanted to make sure Tessa got in okay.”
“So now you’re fucking worried about her?” he says as he comes barreling into me. Both of his palms slam into my chest, shoving me back a few feet.
“I’m always worried about her.”
“Then why the fuck did you make her an accomplice to murder?” he grumbles quietly before his right fist comes flying toward my chin, the only part of my face not covered by the helmet.
I expected the hit and stay on my feet, my knees only buckling for a second, but damn it still hurt like a motherfucker.
Roman jerks my leather cut from my arm and says, “You’re suspended from the club indefinitely. We’ll vote on whether or not you ever wear this again tomorrow. If you come near Tessa again without my permission, I’ll end you. Do you hear me?”
“Isn’t that her decision?” I ask him. “You’re not her president or her father.”
“I’m trying to protect her!” he shouts at me.
“I am too!” I exclaim. “All I want to do is keep her safe!”
“Keep her safe?” Roman scoffs. “Too little, too fucking late! The time for you to keep her safe was the night everything happened to her. It was your fucking fault she was taken by those assholes in the first place!”
“My fault?” I repeat. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw the videos from the club when we were searching for her, and I called you that night, remember?” he says slowly, deliberately, leading up to his point. “Tessa deserves better than the man who was inside someone else while she was getting gang raped!”
And there it is.
Finally, someone has voiced aloud the guilt that I’ve carried with me for months now. No wonder Roman didn’t want her around me. He blames me for the kidnapping. And he’s right, it is my fault that she left the club alone. She ran away from me and right into those fuckers.
“I’ll pack up and leave town tonight,” I assure him, knowing it’s best for the club and probably best for Tessa too. She thinks I’m a hero, a knight in shining armor coming to her rescue, when really, I’m the villain in this story – the stupid son of a bitch who hit on her when she was engaged and about to marry another man. It was the lowest of the low, something my father would do, and I hate myself for it.
“Good. It’s about fucking time you do the right thing.” Roman shouts. “Don’t even think about calling or texting her either! I’ll know if you do, and you’ll pay for it.”
“Take care of her,” I tell him as I straddle my bike and adjust my helmet.
“I will, better than you ever could,” Roman replies.
Chapter Fourteen
Tessa
* * *
“It’s unfair for Roman to take his anger out on Verek,” I tell Charlotte once we’re inside the house. “I’m just as guilty.”
“Not really,” she says. “And we were worried sick about you when I finally found your note! I can’t believe you left without telling me what you were doing!”
“Would you have let me leave if I had? No, you wouldn’t have, Charlotte,” I explain to her. “And I needed to do this, more than you can probably ever understand.”
Before she can respond, Roman comes storming back in. Pointing his finger at the sofa behind us, his chest heaving with fury underneath his leather cut, he says, “Sit down and tell me every fucking thing you two did so we can try and clean it up.”
“Watch your tone with her!” Charlotte warns him.
Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, he says, “I’m sorry, Tessa. But the two of you are acting like crazed teenagers who could be in deep shit right now.”
“Everything went fine,” I say to him honestly. “Really, Roman. We’re not stupid.”
“Tell me everything, from the beginning,” he says, walking over and taking a seat on the edge of one of the sofas.
“Fine,” I say with a sigh as I follow him with Charlotte right behind me. “But after I finish telling you this, I’m going to get a shower and go to bed, not sit here arguing with you for hours. You can have your opinions, but it’s done and over now. I appreciate you letting me stay with you, but if you’re going to bitch about it all the time from now on, I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”
Charlotte glares at Roman as if in warning, before he grits out, “Fine. Talk and I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”
I sit down and start from the beginning at the funeral home, all the way until the end at the boathouse, which is apparently a big surprise to Roman. While he looked calm for the most part during the story, other than grinding his teeth to dust, his green eyes widen, and his face turned a bright tomato red at that point.
“So, all four men are dead. The setup with Floyd looks like he killed himself because of the guilt, and then he pointed fingers at the other guys for their involvement, which will lead the police to believe that the other three are on the run.”
“See, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Charlotte says into the silence that follows the conclusion of my report. “They were smart. Maybe it was better
to keep the rest of you out of this since it’s less likely someone will notice two people passing through town compared to ten Savage Kings storming through.”
“I need to make some calls,” Roman mutters when he gets to his feet and walks out the door, letting it slam behind him.
“Guess he’s going to yell at Cannon and Conrad for not calling him,” I predict.
“I’m surprised they didn’t call,” Charlotte remarks.
“They were trying to help Verek out, I think, knowing he was in enough trouble with Roman already,” I explain. “And it’s wrong for Roman to demand that he leave and stay away from me! I’m a grown woman.”
“I know that,” Charlotte says softly. “Roman isn’t trying to boss you around and tell you what to do. He just wants to make sure you don’t get your heart broken while you try to heal the rest of yourself. Don’t you understand that? He’s told me a lot about Verek, and based on his history, Verek isn’t known for being loyal to one woman for very long, as in not more than a few hours.”
“You think I don’t know the type of guy Verek is, a man as hot as he is, inked up and riding a Harley, working in a nightclub with beautiful women surrounding him all the time?” I reply. “I get it, I do. But I think he’s different with me.”
“What about Paul?” Charlotte asks, his name washing over me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
“What about him?”
“A little over two months ago, he was your fiancé. You thought he was the perfect man. You were going to marry him and spend your life together because you loved him!”
“I remember,” I tell her. “But things changed.”
“Nothing that happened to you was Paul’s fault. Doesn’t he at least deserve a second chance to be with you, to see if you still love him or not?”
“How many times have I told you?” I groan while scrubbing my hands over my tired face. “I may love him, but I can’t talk to him. Not yet. And even if or when I’m ready, I don’t think we can ever go back to the way things were before.”
“How do you know unless you try?” she asks.
Too exhausted for this argument again, I just simply say, “You’re right,” as I get to my feet. “Maybe someday. Just not today or tomorrow or even next week. Please, Charlotte, don’t bring him up again. Please?”
“Okay,” she agrees with a sigh.
“Thank you,” I reply. “Now, I’m going to get a quick shower and go to bed. I’m sorry I made you worry about me, but I was fine with Verek. If anything, having him stay away is going to hurt me. Can’t you try and explain that to Roman?”
“I can try, honey. I just think it’s a losing battle, and I can see Roman’s side of things,” she says, which I translate to mean, I agree with him.
Charlotte wants me to forget about Verek and go back to Paul.
But I can’t do that. I won’t do that.
The night I was kidnapped, I had already made my decision. I’m just too embarrassed to admit that to her or anyone else because I still believe that decision is why I deserved what happened to me.
Chapter Fifteen
Verek
* * *
After stopping by my town house to shove as many clothes as I could fit into my saddlebag, I climb on and take off down the highway, having no idea where I’m heading.
Each mile I put between myself and Tessa feels wrong, like I’m defying nature.
But Roman is right.
Everything that happened to her, all the abuse she endured, was my fault. With me out of the picture, and the men who hurt her dead, maybe Tessa will be able to patch things up with Paul and the wedding will be back on.
Miles of road pass me, and as the sun begins to rise in the sky, I realize that I’m heading south.
Florida seems as good a place as any if I have to leave Myrtle Beach.
The wind feels like it’s cutting into me through my hoodie without my leather cut. I had tried to get used to not wearing it while Tessa and I were on the road, but now that I know I can’t put it on, even if I wanted to, I feel naked, like less of the man I was before. And without my cut, I don’t deserve to wear the ink on my back.
Hopefully it’s just for the short term. In a few weeks, Roman will calm down and let me come back. If not, there are Savage Kings MC chapters in Florida too. I could start over.
But I don’t want to. Not yet, even if it would be the best thing for Tessa.
She deserves more than a murdering playboy, and I’m not sure I have more than the death of the men who hurt her and a few good times in bed to offer.
Tessa
* * *
It’s been almost a week since Verek dropped me off at Charlotte and Roman’s, and I haven’t heard a word from him. At least I’ve been able to keep busy.
“One last stop to make,” I tell Charlotte as I punch the final address into my phone so she can hear the turn by turn directions.
“How are you doing with this?” she asks.
“Fine. Really. It’s nice to be able to tell these women that they’re safe, at least from these men.” Visiting the other three victims was incredibly hard. I don’t want to relive what happened to us any more than they probably do, but knowing these men are dead could help them find a little peace. It’s definitely helped me. Now I dream more about Verek than white vans, medieval stocks, and my own muffled screams of agony.
After a heavy sigh, Charlotte says, “Is anything else wrong?”
“No, it’s just, I haven’t heard from Verek in days. Not since the night we got back.”
“Honey, don’t get your hopes up when it comes to him. Roman says he’s always gone home with a different girl every night. Even the night you were…taken. Sorry!” she says because we try to avoid this topic. “I just don’t want him leading you on. There’s no point in waiting by the phone for him to call is all I’m saying.”
“No, I know. And I figured he went home with someone else that night and that he’s on to his next conquest by now. That’s not surprising at all. You’ve seen him! The man looks like he was made for hot, out-of-this-world sex, and he certainly wasn’t going to get that from me.”
A man like Verek…well, I’m sure he needs more than an occasional shower handjob from a woman, which is all I’m currently capable of giving now, maybe forever.
“Roman says he’s going to be out of town for a while, that he needed to get away or something,” Charlotte says as she turns onto the street for our last stop. When she parks the car near the curb, she says, “The way he talked, he could be gone for a long time.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say disappointedly as I reach for the door handle. “Are you…”
“Of course I’m coming in too,” Charlotte says. “I’ll follow you to the apartment and make sure it’s hers before I give you some space.”
“Thanks,” I say as we both climb out and head inside the run-down complex. Several of the wooden steps are splintered or completely broken as we climb up to the third floor. Finding Sandy’s apartment, I give it a knock.
“Hold on! Four more…minutes!” comes Sandy’s voice from the other side, sounding out of breath and oddly specific.
“That’s her?” Charlotte asks.
“Yep, pretty sure,” I answer.
“Good. I’ll wait by the steps,” she says as she heads over, still in sight but not in hearing distance.
Right around four minutes or so later, the door opens…and a short, bald man walks out.
“Oh. Excuse me,” he says when he sees me. He steps around me as he tucks his white dress shirt back into his dark slacks before he starts toward the stairs, nodding to Charlotte on the way. Even from here I can see her eyebrows lift curiously.
“Tessa? That you?” Sandy says before she steps out of the doorway, tying a black satin robe around her waist, her dyed blonde hair messy from what was apparently a romp with the guy who just left.
“Hey! Sorry to bother you, Sandy. I just, I stopped by because I thought you would want to know that
those men who took us, they won’t hurt anyone else ever again.”
“How can you know that, Strawberry Shortcake?” she asks, using the nickname she gave me at the treatment facility before she up and left at the end of the first week. Placing her hands on her hips, she cocks one to the side and stares at me skeptically.
“Because I was there when they were killed,” I quietly explain to her, causing her pale blue, bloodshot eyes to widen in surprise.
“You were?”
“Yes. All four. They’re gone.”
“That’s…I don’t know what to say…” She stares off at the wall across from the apartment silently.
“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you may be able to sleep easier knowing.”
“Like you have any idea what my life is like? I sleep just fine, Strawberry, usually with several men coming and going through my bed.”
“That’s-that’s none of my business,” I remark and start to walk backward. I want to leave, but I’m not able to back away before I blurt out, “How do you do that exactly?”
“Do what?” Sandy asks, frowning at me.
“Sleep with men?” I whisper.
“Just say it! You mean fuck them for money?”
I shake my head. “No, I just mean, how do you let them touch you and…fuck you without freaking out, remembering what they did to us?”
“Oh. Well, avoiding sex with men is harder than just going through with it,” she mutters.
“It is?” I ask in confusion. “I’m sorry to put you on the spot. It’s just, there’s this man who I care about, and I’m able to touch him, but I don’t know if I can let him inside me…”
“Were you a prude before you were raped or just after?” she asks, causing my jaw to drop. “I’m being serious.”
“I wasn’t a prude, but I had only been with three men in my entire life. The one I was with at the time was my fiancé. Now there’s this other man…”