Blood of Cupids (11 page)

I don’t know what made me look, but my attention was drawn
to the crowd. I immediately faced the consequence of my lack of focus as I felt
a swift blow to my face, and fell to the mat. I have never done anything that
stupid, and I never went into a match without complete concentration, but today
was a whole different situation. Outcomes raced through my mind; I couldn’t
stop predicting when
The Walking Shadows
would strike. That’s when I saw
her: her hair, her body, her face. What was she doing here? I could feel my
heart jump into my throat; I was suffocating from fear.

“Grace. No. No. Get the hell out of here.” I whispered. No
louder sound could I find within me, but she heard, she nodded, and she ran.

That’s when the shouting started. She was running past armed
guards. What the hell was I thinking? Of course they would be on high alert.
But I sent her out there, into the unknown. I could only pray she wouldn’t be
confused for an enemy. But my prayers were overlooked. I heard the first bang,
then the second. They’d started to shoot. What had I done?  

I stopped the match. Well, I didn’t necessarily stop it; I
just jumped out of the ring and started running. I got to the doorway and
searched the darkness. I could hear the commotion behind me, but tried to tune
it out in order to find Grace. Maybe I wasn’t too late.

An explosion…my eyes fought to focus as I watched our
clubhouse surrender to the engulfing flames. I heard the distant sounds of
bikes amidst the roar of the fire. Of course,
The Walking Shadows MC
were
here. They were here and they were leaving and we missed them all because I had
suggested we plan a stupid boxing match. Grace was somewhere in this wreckage
because I wanted to fight.

I dropped to my knees, unable to move. People were running
past me, but I was frozen, helpless. The idea of ever moving from that spot
seemed a distant hope, until I heard her. Her voice cut through the disaster.
Grace was saying my name.

 “Ryan?”

I looked around, trying desperately to find the voice.

“Ryan? You know Ryan?” It was Uncle Sean. Had he found
Grace? He was only a few yards from me, holding a shotgun toward the earth. No.
It wasn’t the earth; it was a body. He was holding a gun to
my
Grace.

“Sean! Stop!” I rushed to her side, but suddenly stilled as
I saw the blood. Oh God, what had happened? I needed to stop the bleeding, but
I had nothing. I wasn’t wearing a shirt. Only interested in saving her life, I
ripped her blouse open and pulled it from her body. I hated that Sean was
looming over her, eyeing my Grace’s half naked form, but I couldn’t let my
jealousy be my focus. I wrapped her shirt tightly around her arm and lifted her
off the ground, cradling her to my chest.

“Grace, I’m here. Please wake up. Grace.”

“Ryan…” her voice was weak, but she was alive.

“Yes, babe, I’m here. It’s okay. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

The next few minutes were a blur. Sean was yelling and
asking for her name. I only knew
Grace
. She never told me her last name.
Why hadn’t I made her tell me her last name? I needed to get her to a hospital,
but of course, they were going to ask for her information. Then they were going
to ask about the gunshot wound. How had I done so much wrong in so little time?

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and the air seemed to thin.
“Pops!” I needed that comfort.

“Ryan, what happened?” He asked, out of breath.

I explained how little I knew, but that I watched the
clubhouse explode and heard the thunder of bikes as they left. Luckily we knew
no one was hurt, because everyone was watching the match. Still, it didn’t take
away from the fact that our enemies had planned a successful attack on us. I
should have chased them. I should have jumped on my bike and made them pay, but
I needed to hold her. I needed her to be okay.

“Grace. Please wake up.”

“Grace—?” Pops questioned, sounding worried, confused.

“He doesn’t know her last name.” Sean finished his thought.

There was silence. His hand left my shoulder and moved to
her forehead, her cheek. Her eyes opened at his touch. She was still with us;
maybe she could tell us where her wallet was hiding. But I didn’t want to ask
her a single question. I only wanted her to know I would never leave her side.

Pops looked at me and shook his head. I could see his face
twist as he caught his breath.

“It’s Brennan. Her name is Grace Brennan.” He gave a
knowing, regretful smile and turned toward the still burning clubhouse.

“Shit! Are you fucking kidding me?” Sean lifted his shotgun
in the air as he screamed.

I was immobile, confused, shocked, and humiliated. She was
looking at me. Her eyes were begging for forgiveness. Had she known this whole
time?

“Grace? You’re…you’re Grace Brennan?”

She nodded, and her eyes closed. They stayed closed. What
was I supposed to do?

I think we were in a truck. It felt like a truck. The engine
was loud, and the gravel crushed beneath us. My eyes didn’t want to open, but I
could smell Ryan. Ryan had such a good, dark smell. He was holding me so tight
against his bare chest. He kept whispering in my ear, but I could only catch
random words. Nothing formed complete thoughts. I just wanted to sleep.

“Her name is Grace Brennan and she’s from Alexandria,
Pennsylvania. I don’t know where her insurance card is, or her driver’s
license, but you need to fix her now.”

“Calm down young man. The doctor is checking on her. We’ll
get all her information soon enough, but I need you to put a shirt on.”

“To hell with a shirt! Tell me she’ll be okay!” It wasn’t my
proudest or most rational moment, but nothing else mattered to me.

“I’ll go check on her. In the meantime, I need you to put on
a shirt.”

Pops unzipped his sweatshirt and hung it over my shoulders.
Even in my bout of hysteria, I was happy he had come. I would not have been
able to drive in my panicked state. Sean was dealing with the fire, and I’m
sure, paying off the cops. I felt solely responsible for the evening’s massive
fuck up.

“Pops, I had no idea who she was.”

“I know.” He was quiet, not offering anything extra.

“And she didn’t know who I was…at least at first?” I formed
it as a question because in that moment, I knew nothing. But she couldn’t have known.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I went after
her
.” I squinted my eyes as my
head began pounding. “It was that fucking red hair, I swear.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “How long has this been going
on?”

“Since last Friday.”

He sat up. “Ryan, really? You’re acting like a damn love
sick puppy dog after only a week?”

“Fuck no. I’m not a puppy. I just want to make sure she’s
okay. She had nothing to do with this.”

“She showed up to your match, and within a few minutes, our
clubhouse exploded.”

“Pops, she didn’t do that.”

“You’re so goddam blinded by her, you can’t even see what
she is. She’s a Brennan, Ry. She’s the enemy.”

I wanted to punch him. How dare he speak of her in such a
way? I could feel my face redden with anger as my fists clenched. He didn’t know
her like I did. He knew nothing about her.

Then again, what did I know? We had spent a short few hours
talking, but other than that, our relationship was pure lust. She could have
been putting on a show. It could’ve all been for my benefit. What if I didn’t
know Grace at all? Fucking Grace Brennan.

I couldn’t defend her. I had nothing. “How did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“Her last name was Brennan.”

He choked out a short laugh and ran his index finger and
thumb along either sides of his mouth. “I used to know her mother, a long time
ago.”

“What?” Grace had clammed up when I mentioned her mother.
How had Pops known her?

“Uh, yah, you know, she hung around the club.”

“Our club? But wasn’t she married to Brennan?”

“God Ryan, how am I supposed to remember? You know how
broads hang around the clubs. I just knew her from around. Point is, Grace
looks—” He slowed his speech, “—she looks just like her mother did.”

He seemed irritated at my badgering, but things still
weren’t adding up. “So her mother is dead?”

“Fuck, ask your God damn ol’ lady herself.”

“Pops, what the hell is wrong with you? Maybe I screwed up,
yes, but I had no idea who this girl was. Had you ever felt the need to share
any information about the
Shadows’
history with me, maybe this wouldn’t
have happened.” It was a silly comeback, but I was grasping at straws.

“Listen,” he stammered, looking hard at me before
continuing, “Okay, maybe you’re right. And yeah, it was pretty terrible.
Grace’s mom, uh, her name was Emily, I think, she got mixed up with this guy in
our club, a newbie, and Bowie found out.”

“What does that mean?”

“Christ, Ryan, do I have to spell everything out for you? He
fucking killed her. What do you think it means?”

Patrick Brennan killed his wife? Did Grace know? Was she aware
that the person who raised her was the same one who killed her mother? I felt a
sudden desire to protect her surge through my body. I
needed
to protect
her. I didn’t want that scumbag anywhere near her. Maybe that’s why she had
come to Philly? Maybe she was trying to get away from it all? And now her
father was waging a war on her new city. Was he doing it to scare her?

“I know what you’re thinking, Ry. No, it’s impossible that
she’s not a part of this.”

“She can’t be.”

“How well can you know someone after a week?”

“Pops. You know me. You know I don’t get involved. So trust
that I’m right about this.”

“Okay, say you are right about her.” He reasoned with me.
“Say she loves you and would betray her family for you. I just told you that
her father killed her mother, because she fell in love with one of us. What do
you think he’ll do to her? Are you willing to be the reason she winds up dead?”

I hadn’t thought about that. All I knew was that I wanted to
protect her. Was leaving her alone the only way? And could I actually do that?
I thought about nothing but her. She had consumed me. Would I be able to leave
all that behind? Was I being selfish?

“Let’s go home, kid. We have some cleaning up to do.”

“Pops, I can’t. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Ryan, can you just drop the stupidity for a second? We’re
leaving.”

“And I’m staying. I need to talk to her. Please trust me.”

He shook his head and pushed himself out of the chair. “I’ll
be with
your
family cleaning up the mess that
her
family made.
Just think about that.”

He turned down the corridor, out of sight. I felt suddenly
alone. He was right. What was I doing here? This woman most likely betrayed me.
She set me up, and yet, I was waiting for her to recover, trusting in only my
gut. I was sitting in the hospital when I should be repairing what was broken.
I had only known Grace for a week. My family needed me, and I was letting them
down.

I chased after him, turning the corner of the long white
hallway, and caught a glimpse of my Pops just as he was stepping into the
elevator. My attention was split as another set of doors sounded an arrival.
Pops turned around as three large men stepped out, each with deep indented
worry lines etched across their foreheads. As the doors to his elevator closed,
he caught my eyes and shook his head. He wanted me to get out, but it was too
late. They were coming straight toward me.

The head of the group had deep blonde hair and a thick red
speckled beard. He wore a dark gray thermal against his black jeans, and
proudly donned his cut over his very apparent chest muscles. I couldn’t help
but stare as he swiftly moved in my direction. The leather was old, worn. His
patches were faded, but I knew who he was. The hospital must have called him.
Standing before me, with his “president” patch, was Patrick Brennan.

But they weren’t there for me. They were there for Grace.
The group stormed past me, not even realizing I had taken up space in their
hallway. I couldn’t leave now. Even if I had my doubts about her, I couldn’t
leave Grace alone with that maniac.

I slowly followed behind, making sure not to seem as though
I was spying. A nurse walked up to the three, asking if she could help.

“Where’s my daughter?” His tone was rough; the nurse was
obviously frightened.

“I’m sorry sir, who are you looking for?” She calmly
questioned him.

“Grace. Grace Brennan. Someone called me and said she was
here?”

“Oh, yes sir. Luckily she was only shot with a small caliber
pistol, and it didn’t hit an artery. We’re just stitching her up now. Though,
there was a substantial amount of blood loss, and she does have a grade three
concussion, so we want to keep her here for a little while to monitor.  I
actually came out to tell the young man who brought her in…Have you seen him?”

Shit. I did not need Patrick “Bowie” Brennan knowing that I
brought his daughter to the hospital. I flipped up my hood and turned around,
hoping she wouldn’t see me.

“Who brought her in?”

“I don’t know his name. I assumed it was her boyfriend?”

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend. Who the hell brought her in,
lady?”

“I’m sorry, I really don’t know. And I guess he left, so—”

He stepped closer to her, pushing her up against the wall.
The poor nurse. None of this was her fault.

“Maybe you need to be better at your job. Now you’re going
to take me to my daughter, and then you’re going to find her mystery man.”

“I can’t take you in until the doctor is finished with her.”

“You’ll take me in now, or so help me, tomorrow this
hospital will have one less pretty little nurse.”

“O-Okay.” She stammered, but then led them down the hallway
and into a small room.

I needed to get closer. I felt a strong desire to both
protect Grace from her giant of a father, and to find out if she had anything
to do with the explosion. I still trusted her, but I needed the confirmation. I
needed to prove to my family that she had nothing to do with it.

I slowly stepped closer to her room and peeked through the
slightly open blinds. Grace was in the hospital bed. Her head and arm were both
bandaged, and her eyes were vacant. The corners of her lips slid down and her
empty eyes filled with water as her father approached. He fell to his knees and
grabbed her hand in his.

“I’m so sorry, Grace.” I heard him mumble.

He was sorry? Maybe he did know she was at my match. Maybe
it
was
a set up.

“It wasn’t your fault. I did this.” She softly whispered.

Pops was right. Grace had betrayed me.