Satan’s Fury MC - Memphis

by Wilder, L.

  “No.” I took big sip of my wine. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

  “Then, we won’t.”

  He came over, took off his cut, and sat down next to me. He didn’t say anything more. Instead, he just sat there next to me, and for the first time since I’d seen Lucas in my parking lot, I felt like I could actually breathe. Almost an hour had past when I looked over to him and said, “Thank you, Beckett.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  I didn’t know what it was about him that made me feel so safe. He was this badass biker guy who lived in a world that I never had truly understood, but his strength and calm nature, made me feel protected, like nothing—not even Lucas Brant—could hurt me. I curled up next to him, and it wasn’t long before I dozed off. I had no idea how long I’d been sleeping when I felt myself being lifted up and carried down the hall. Beckett took me into my room and carefully lowered me down onto the bed. As he pulled the covers over me, I looked up at him and said, “Please don’t go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Lyssa. I’ll be on the sofa if you need me.”

  “Okay.”

  He turned out the light, and I watched as he walked out of the room and back into the living room. Knowing that he was just in the next room, I was able to fall right back to sleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to keep me asleep. It was just after three when I got out of bed and started towards the kitchen. I was going to make myself something to eat when I notice that the TV was on in the living room. I figured Beckett had fallen asleep with it on until I heard him ask, “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I leaned into the room as I said, “I was just going to grab a bite to eat. Can I get you anything?”

  “No.” Held up a bag of chips as he said, “I’m good.”

  “Okay.” I went and grabbed a bag of Oreos and some milk, then went back into the living room. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure.” He moved his feet, giving me a spot to sit, and once I was settled, he asked, “You gonna share?”

  “Of course.” I grabbed a couple of cookies, then handed the rest of the package. “Have you been up long?”

  “Haven’t been to sleep yet.” He motioned his head towards the TV. “I got caught up in the movie.”

  I looked over to the black and white movie playing on the screen, and it didn’t take me long to recognize it. “True Grit?”

  “Yeah. Seen it a million times, but never get tired of watching it.”

  “You sound like my dad.”

  “I remember you saying he liked John Wayne movies. My ol’ man did, too.” He took an Oreo and shoved it in his mouth. “He’s probably the reason I like them the way I do. Seemed like he was always quoting some line from one of his movies.”

  “Mine did that, too. He did the same with Clint Eastwood movies.”

  “Yep. He’s another great one.” Beckett looked over to me and asked, “Were you and your dad close?”

  Yeah. I was pretty much a daddy’s girl. I was always so excited when he’d come home from a long haul on his truck. He was a really great guy. He had such a good heart. Sweet. Thoughtful. Always there when you needed him.” I smiled as I said, “You know… you remind me a lot of him.”

  “Awe, come on, now. You can’t be saying shit like that.” He chuckled as he said, “You’ll have me thinking you’ve got daddy issues or something.”

  “Beckett!” I gave him a playful slap on the arm as I said, “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “I’m just saying,” he teased.

  “I’ll have you know that I’m not one of those girls with daddy issues.”

  “Um-hmm. That’s what someone with daddy issues would say.”

  “Are you being serious right now?”

  A smirk crossed his face as he said, “No. I’m just messing with you.”

  “You’re a mess.”

  “Yeah, but I got to smile. That has to count for something.”

  “It most certainly does.”

  I settle back and continued to much on my Oreos as we watched the rest of the movie. When it was over, I looked over to Beckett and found him sound asleep. Being careful not to wake him, I eased up off the sofa and went back to my room. As I got into bed, I was feeling much better. I even slept a little, and when I woke up the next morning, I was feeling fairly decent. That didn’t mean that I wasn’t still rattled by the fact that I’d seen Lucas. Remembering how much better Beckett had made me feel the night before, I went into the living room to thank him. To my disappointment, there was no sign of him—only a note saying that he had to get back to the clubhouse. I was about to go get my phone to text him when I noticed the time. It was already almost nine and I had to be work in half an hour, so I rushed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. I was afraid that I was going to be late, but thankfully, I was able to get ready fast and managed to get there just in time. As soon as I walked employee locker room, I ran into Jack, one of the restaurant’s busboys.

  “Pushing kind of close, aren’t ya?”

  “Yeah…I uh…overslept.”

  “Long night?”

  “You could sat that.” I put my things into my locker, then reached inside for my apron. As I slipped it on, I asked, “What about you? Did you have a good night?”

  “It wasn’t too bad. After you left, it got a little busy, but after the dinner rush, things were pretty chill.”

  Jack was a couple of years younger than me, tall with red hair and green eyes, and like me, he was relatively new to Chez Philippe. Even so, he’d done what he could to help me get my bearings on my first day, and I appreciated it more than he could ever know. “Good. I guess I better get going. I don’t want to be late.”

  “Good luck in there.”

  “Thanks. With the way my days been going, I need all the luck I can get.”

  I didn’t know just how true that statement was until I got into the kitchen. As soon as I walked in, Alexandre Bisset, the most arrogant sous chef I’d ever met, came storming over to me. Sounding like an overbearing drill sergeant from hell, he growled, “If you can’t be on time, then don’t bother coming in at all.”

  I knew I wasn’t late but I wasn’t exactly early either, so I just nodded. “Sorry, Chef Bisset. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “You best see to it that you don’t.” He motioned his hand towards the crate of potatoes. “They aren’t going to peel themselves.”

  I nodded, then rushed over and got busy. I knew that I would have to start at the bottom. It was just the way things worked, so I didn’t complain. I just did the work I was assigned to do and did it the best that I could, hoping that, in time, I’d be able to work my way up the food chain. I spent over an hour peeling all those potatoes, and when I finished that, I moved on to the other vegetables, dicing them and prepping them for the upcoming lunch rush. As I worked, I watched in awe as lead chef, Antoine Boucher, and his crew moved through the kitchen. To an outsider, it might’ve looked like utter chaos, but to me, it was simply magical. It was like they were all dancing to a tune that only they could hear—each of their movements fluid, precise, and completely in sync with one another.

  As the day turned into night, I kept watching, making note of how things worked, especially where Chef Bisset was concerned. I needed to know what he expected of each member of his team. While it wasn’t easy to keep up with everything that was going on, I loved every minute of it. Being there, in all the craziness, helped distract me from thinking about Lucas—at least momentarily. When my shift was over and it was time to go, I started to get anxious, fearing I might see him again. I’d gotten my things together and started towards the back, but when I got to the door I froze. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself step outside. I knew it was dark out, and the thought of Lucas being out there again was freaking me out. I was just too freaked out by the thought to move.

  Thankfully, Jack walked up behind me and asked, “Hey, everything okay?”


  “Yeah.” I glanced over at him and noticed that he was carrying two large bags of garbage. “Everything’s fine.”

  “You heading out?”

  I nodded. “I was about to.”

  “You want me to walk you out to your car?”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Not at all.” He pushed the door open with his hip as he said, “Just let me take care of these first.”

  I nodded, then followed him over to the dumpster. After he’d tossed the garbage inside, we turned and started towards the parking lot. When we got to my car, Jack waited for me to unlock my doors and get inside. Before I closed my door, I said, “Thank you, Jack.”

  “Anytime.” He turned to go back into the restaurant and waved. “See ya tomorrow.”

  Once he was back inside, I started the car, and as I eased out of the parking lot, I found myself looking for any sign of Lucas. Thankfully, I didn’t see him or anyone who looked remotely like him. Feeling only slightly relieved, I headed home. When I got there, Clay was waiting for me in the driveway. Curious to see why he’d come, I got out of my car and walked over to him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “It’s late, Clay.” I walked past him with a huff and headed up the stairs. “You should be home with Landry.”

  “Look, Lyssa. I get it. You’re pissed about last night and the way I handled things and I’m sorry about blowing up, but …”

  “It’s okay.” I unlocked the door, then walked inside. “I know you were upset and I was, too, but I think we’re just gonna have to let it go. Lucas was probably just here to see some friends or something.”

  “Well, about that.” I knew my brother well enough to know that he was about to drop a bomb on me, but I wasn’t expecting him to say, “I looked into Lucas, and it turns out you were right. He is living here.”

  “What?”

  “He moved here a year ago.” My stomach twisted into a knot as he continued, “He’s been working with a couple of his buddies from back home at some heating and cooling place.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Sorry, sis. I’m not.” He stepped towards me with a pained expression. “I know this isn’t the news you were wanting, but things are different now. He’s married now…even has a kid on the way.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I clenched my fists at my sides as I bit back my tears, “because it doesn’t. Not at all.”

  “Look, I know this is tough, but it’s gonna be okay.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’m here,” he wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly, “and if he even thinks about coming close to you, I’ll fucking kill him.”

  “Thank you for looking out for me.” I hugged him back before pulling away. “I really do appreciate it, but it’s late. You should get back to Landry.”

  “Landry is fine. She’s…”

  Even though I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being alone, I pushed, “Clay, I’ll be okay. Just go home.”

  “You sure.”

  I nodded. “I’m wiped. I’m just going to change clothes and go to bed.”

  “Okay. Do what you need to do.” He waited as I unlocked my door and stepped inside the house. Before I closed the door, he said, “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.” When he turned to leave, I said, “Tell Landry I said hey.”

  “Will do.”

  I closed the door, and just as I locked it, I heard the roar of his Harley as he backed out of my driveway. I’d done my best to keep it together when Clay told me about Lucas, but the second he was gone, I lost it—not because I was afraid. I lost it because I was angry. I’d moved to Memphis thinking I was getting a fresh start, that I was leaving Lucas and my past behind me, and it infuriated me that I was wrong—that he really wasn’t out of my life. I threw my bag down on the table, and with tears streaming down my face, I screamed at the top of my lungs. I shouted a stream of curses as I grabbed the throw pillows off my sofa and tossed it across the room, and then did the same with magazines I had laying on the coffee table. I was in the midst of a total, raging meltdown when I heard a knock on the door. I figured it was Clay coming back to make sure I was okay, so as I opened the door, I sassed, “I thought I told you to go home.”

  The words had already left my mouth before I realized it was actually Beckett. I didn’t even give him a chance to speak before I stepped out on the porch and wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. I felt his arms wind around my waist, and as he pulled me close, my body melted into his. After several moments of holding me, he said, “Let’s get you inside.”

  “Okay.”

  He followed me back into the house, and when he saw all the pillows and magazines strewn all over my living room, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he just walked over and started picking things up and putting them back where they belonged. As he placed the pillows back on the sofa, he looked over to me with concern in his eyes. “I’m guessing things aren’t going so great.”

  “They’ve definitely been better.”

  “You want to tell me about it?” When he saw the expression on my face, he shook his head and sighed. “O-kaay. Have it your way.”

  “I’m just not ready to get into it.”

  “I understand.” He studied me for a moment, like he was trying to make sense of what was going on with me, then said, “It’s late…I best get going. I probably shouldn’t have come in the first place. I wasn’t planning to, but for some reason, I couldn’t seem to go home without coming by to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m glad you did. Really glad.”

  “Me, too.”

  I knew I was being selfish. Beckett had his own life, his own problems to deal with, but I didn’t want him to go. When he was around, I didn’t feel so helpless and afraid. “Do you have to go?”

  “No, I don’t have to go. I can stay as long as you need me to.” He motioned his head towards my bedroom. “Why don’t you go get changed… get ready for bed, and I’ll hold up shop out here.”

  “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “No, I don’t mind at all.” He leaned over and kissed me on the temple. “Go get some sleep. I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Beckett.”

  I did as he said. I went to my room, took a shower, put on my pajamas, and crawled into bed. As I laid my head on the pillow, I thought about everything Clay had told me about Lucas. Since he was married now and expecting a baby, I wanted to believe that Lucas had changed, but when I thought about the night he raped me, I knew better. I saw that wild look in his eye. I knew then that my fear was exciting him and dominating me gave him a thrill. It sickened me to even think about it, but I knew that monster that lurked deep inside of him wouldn’t just disappear completely. It was that thought that had me tossing and turning for hours, but with Beckett in the next room, I was eventually able to fall asleep.

  Over the next few weeks, I had good days and bad days. I went to work, tried to face the day with a positive outlook, but it wasn’t easy. I never knew when the panic would rise up inside of me, crippling me like it had when Lucas first raped me, and while Clay had done what he could to support me, it was Beckett who’d helped me the most.

  Every night, he’d come by to see how I was doing. If I was having a good day, he’d go home, but if not, he’d come in and do whatever he could to ease my mind. We’d talk, watch movies, and on those night when we neither of us could sleep, Beckett would take me out for a ride on his Harley. Those nights were my favorite. I’d ridden some with Viper when I was younger, but it felt nothing like it did when I was with Beckett. I felt so free, so alive, so I couldn’t have been more pleased the night he showed up at my door with a helmet in his hand. A smile crossed his face as he asked, “You wanna get out of here for a while?”

  “Sure. Where we going?”

  “No idea. Guess we’l
l figure out it when we get there.”

  “Sounds good to me. Just let me grab my jacket.”

  He waited in the doorway while I went to get my things, and once I was ready, he led me out to his bike. As soon as I had my helmet on, he backed out of the driveway and sped off into the night. Since it was late, there wasn’t much traffic, and we were able to move from street to street without any cars getting in our way. The lights of the city seemed so much brighter on the back of his bike, and with the wind whipping around us, I almost felt like I was flying. All thoughts of Lucas and work were gone. It was just him and me, soaring through the night without a care in the world. After driving around for almost an hour, he drove us into a neighborhood in midtown. I was just about to ask him where we were going when we pulled up to a beautiful, two-story brick home. Beckett parked and as he got off the bike, he asked, “You wanna see my place?”

  “This is your house?”

  “Yeah. I figured since we were close I’d show it to ya.”

  I slipped off my helmet, then Beckett held out his hand and helped me keep my balance as I got off his motorcycle. I followed him up to the front porch and waited as he unlocked the door. When we stepped inside, he turned on the lights, and I was blown away at how perfect it was. There were hardwood floors throughout the entire house with furniture that looked like it came right out of one of those fancy magazines. “It’s really beautiful, Beckett.”

  “It’s just a house.”

  “Well, I happen to think it’s amazing.” As I walked into the living room, noting all the artwork on the walls and large lanterns on the end tables. It couldn’t have been more perfect. “Did you do all this yourself?”

  “Pretty much. Just kind of threw it together.”

  “You did more than just throw this together, Beckett. A house like this takes a lot of time and effort.” I looked over to him as I said, “You did an incredible job with it. You should be proud.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I more than like it. I love it.” I crossed my arms and cocked my eyebrow. “How come you haven’t helped me more with my place?”