Blood of Cupids (17 page)

“Pops, you here?”

I strolled through his house, peeking in each room as I passed.
It was the home I’d grown up in, but it had been so long since I had run my
hands down these walls. I was trying to remain calm, convincing myself that he
had nothing to do with Grace’s car. After my altercation with Sean, I took off.
I didn’t want to see anyone. I walked to the river and sat there for hours. I
felt so alone: no bike, no girlfriend, and no family. But I couldn’t let my
wallowing go on any longer. Things needed to be said. I needed to know where I
stood with my club.

Passing the staircase, I noticed the basement door was
slightly ajar. Voices rose up from the depths, and I quietly made my way down
the old stairs, ready to encounter anything.

Even if I had prepared myself for it, I was still stunned to
find my brothers meeting for Church without my knowledge. What could this be
about?

Sean was standing at the helm, with Pops leaning up against
the wall. All the guys slumped in their seats, listening vehemently to Sean’s
apparent speech. On the table were an assortment of guns: a .357 Magnum
blue-steel revolver, a Norinco 84-S assault rifle, a Smith & Wesson 9mm
pistol, a Glenfield .22 semiautomatic rifle, a Charter Arms .44 Special
revolver, and my favorite for target practice, a Beretta Express SS06 shotgun.

“What’s with the secret meeting?” I broke up the party. No
one had heard me enter. The guys all looked at me, some seemingly angry, some
hurt, some confused. Sean must have told them about Grace.

My uncle continued on as if I wasn’t there. “So after
everything I’ve brought to light today, I would like to propose that we strip
Ryan of his colors.”

I may have toyed with the idea of getting out, but never did
I think I’d be kicked out of my own club. The guys spoke up, all against Sean’s
request.

“Are you kidding us, Sean?”

“You killed his broad. I think he learned his lesson.”

“He’s our family.”

“The
Shadows
will be after him now. We can’t let him
out on the streets on his own.”

Even after all the pain I had caused this club, they still
stuck up for me, vowed to protect me. I could say what I wanted about their
need for violence and crime, but their love for one another was stronger than
anything a single person could ever imagine.

Pops finally chimed in. “Sean, drop this now.”

“No, there’s no way. I’m right about this. Take his colors. We’re
burning off his tattoo.” His eyes caught mine as he lifted a lighter from his
pocket.

“The room is against you on this. We’re not kicking Ryan
out.”

I was shocked, unable to speak. The ramifications of my
actions were taking shape and my uncle, my own flesh and blood, was
recommending the burning off of my tattoo. It was an act that could possibly
kill me. What had I done to make him hate me so much?

I stepped forward, requesting a private session with Sean.
He spit in my face at the invitation, promising to make me pay for the
suffering I had brought to this club. His spit slowly slid down my cheek,
allowing me time to regain my composure. But as the liquid picked up speed, so
did my anger. I lunged at Sean, wanting so badly to see him dead.

I jabbed, but his anticipation moved him back, and my energy
was wasted in that thrown punch. He crossed to my ribs and sent a hook directly
into my temple. This was my game. How was I allowing him to beat me? He grabbed
my shoulders and held me in place as he used his head to throw back my jaw. So
we weren’t playing by the rules? Fine by me. I sent my knee into his hip,
crippling him to the ground. I had lost it. I began kicking his ribs, his
stomach, and anything that the toe of my boot could contact. Finally, Pop’s
voice brought me back to reality.

“Both of you, out!” He boomed.

I stalled, mid kick, staring at him. Both of us? This was my
childhood home, and I was being asked to leave.

He pushed the air from his lungs, his lips trembling at the
expulsion. “Actually, everyone out. I don’t want to see your faces anymore.”

The silence was deafening until one of the guys spoke up.
“Hey Prez, we still haven’t figured out how we’re going to take on the
Shadows.
There’s no doubt they’re coming after us.”

His hands moved to his temples as he weighed the
consequences of the rivalry. “Take tonight off. Be with your ol’ ladies and
your kids. Tomorrow we’ll meet for Church: talk about finishing this off once
and for all.”

“Here again, Pops?” Even if he was angry with me, there was
no way I was being left out of another meeting.

“Not you. I don’t want either of you here. Figure out where
your loyalties lie, and then come talk to me.”

He walked up the steps of his own basement, leaving the rest
of the crew alone. I slammed my fist into an old stereo, shattering the glass
across my knuckles.

“Fuck me.” I thundered. I left the broken glass and stormed
off, preparing to wrap my bleeding hand and spend Thanksgiving alone in my
shit-hole apartment.

“No Dad, it was a misunderstanding.”

“What
Cupid
, Grace?” His tone sent my heart racing.

“Patrick…” Aunt Kathryn raced up to him. “It’s my fault. I
let this happen. Don’t blame Gracie.”

What was she trying to take credit for? She had nothing to
do with my car exploding.

He slowly opened the screen door and shot his left hand out,
grabbing Aunt Kathryn by her collar.

“Stop!” I begged.

Still holding her off the ground, he backhanded her across
the face and dropped her to the wood panels. She didn’t say a word, just caught
herself on her hands and turned her gaze toward me.

Everything seemed to happen so fast. His eyes moved from
hers to mine and he approached the spot where I stood.

“Dad. It’s not like it sounds.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Did he touch you?”

“Dad…” What was I supposed to say? How could I lie to him?

“Grace, who is the
Cupid
boy?”

He was standing over top of me. I had never feared him so
much in my entire life. I had never known just how tall, how large he was until
that moment. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head to the side. I don’t
know for what I was preparing myself.

His voice turned to a whisper, and I could feel the heat of
his breath on my cheek. “Tell me what happened,
now
.” He grabbed my jaw
and turned my head to face his. My eyes shot open, staring directly into his
widened pupils.

“Someone blew up my car.” I stuttered, trying to steady my
shallow breath. “But Dad, it wasn’t Ryan. I know it wasn’t Ryan. He would never
hurt me.”

“Ryan?” I saw the realization hit his face. “Cassidy? Are you
fucking Ryan Cassidy?”

Why had I said his name? What had I done?

“Dad, no!” I reached out to hold him back from God only
knows, and he responded by slapping me across my face and tossing me to the
ground. It was the first time my father had ever struck me. I started to cry.
It was such a childish thing to do, but I couldn’t help the rush of feelings.

Still on the ground, Aunt Kathryn pulled me into her, trying
to quiet my tears. “It’s okay, Gracie. It’ll be okay.”

He stood over the two of us, unfazed by our shock. “Get in
the cage now. We’re going to Church.”

Dad walked inside, slamming the door behind him. Aunt
Kathryn and I scurried to our feet and cautiously moved toward her car.

The bikes were already there as we pulled around back of the
clubhouse. We stayed locked in until Dad retrieved his colors from the trunk.
One of the many MC rules was that you were not allowed to wear your colors
while in a car, or cage, as they called it. It was another silly regulation
that I would not miss once I left this life for good. The question that then
rolled through my mind was
how
I would be leaving this life.

The trunk slammed shut, and Dad kicked the door, signaling
us to crawl out of the vehicle. We slowly followed him inside and sat by the
door.

“Grace, I want you in here.”

“But…”

“No buts. Get your ass into this meeting.”

Aunt Kathryn and I exchanged worried glances, but I did as I
was told. The officers and a few older club members were already gathered
around the long table. My father sauntered to his seat, but never sat down.

“Today we’re going to plan Ryan Cassidy’s death.”

“No!” I screamed. I didn’t mean to, it just came out.

They all looked at me. I saw the realization hit everyone at
once. They knew there was something between Ryan and me.

“And that’s why we’re killing him.” My dad said, pointing
his thumb at me.

The guys jumped in, agreeing. They were pathetically excited
to carry out such an important task for their president.

“Nineteen years ago, the elder Cassidy killed my wife, and
now today, his prodigy tried to take away my little girl. I should’ve killed
him then, but it’ll be so much sweeter to watch them both die at my own hand.”

There was applause, screaming, but time had stopped for me.
Dad knew this entire time that it was Ryan’s father who had shot my mom? Ryan’s
father was the one who I watched rape her? And then…and then I let his son
inside of me. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. I didn’t want to be there any
longer.

I felt my face pale and bile start to attack my throat.

“Gracie,” my father was addressing me, but the room had
begun to spin, “I want you to be there when I kill him; when I jab a knife into
his heart.”

How was he saying this to me? Why was he getting so much
pleasure out of it?

“We leave tonight. After turkey, of course.” He shot a wink
in my direction. I couldn’t handle the torture anymore. I race out of the room,
running past Aunt Kathryn and out into the parking lot. I needed the fresh,
cold air against my face.

I hit the ground and screamed. I couldn’t hold it in any
longer. I started pounding my fists against the black top, unaware that my
knuckles had started to bleed.

“Grace!” I heard my father yell. He was looking for me, but
I didn’t want to be found. I had nowhere to go, but I knew I couldn’t stay in
the parking lot. I picked myself up and began to run. The bitter wind battered
my tear stained cheeks, but the external pain was muted by the death I felt
inside of me. I could still hear him calling as I raced down the street, but
there was no turning back. Not only had he swung at me, but he also demanded I
witness the murder of someone I cared about. I promised myself that would be
the last time I would willingly see my father.

Patrick Brennan had gone too far.

I found the hidden bike and started the booming engine. The
only place I wanted to be was in Ryan’s arms. After all the stories, the
warnings about his family, he was the only person left who made me feel safe.
There was now no doubt in my mind that Ryan would never hurt me. But that
didn’t mean his father wouldn’t.

The miles sped by: Huntingdon, Mill Creek, Mount Union,
Juniata. I didn’t even see the passing towns. When I came up on Harrisburg, an
image flashed through my mind. It was a face from the night I was shot.

Someone touched my forehead, my cheek. I opened my eyes
and was staring at an older man, an older Ryan. He moved my hair from my face
and sighed. His lips pursed and his brow furrowed.

I was certain that haunting face was Ryan’s father. That man
could have let me die in that field. But his face, the way he looked at me,
there was no hatred there. He couldn’t have killed my mother. Dad must have
been wrong about him.

I had to warn Ryan. He and his father were in danger, and it
was my fault. At last I had a destination. I might not be welcome on their
property, but I would make my intentions known. I would find Ryan, find his
father, and…and…and then what?

Who’s to say they wouldn’t shoot me on the spot? Hell, one
of them tried to blow up my car. Ryan was right: I never thought about my own
well-being. Did I not care about my life? Was I subconsciously asking for some
sort of ending?

But now was not the time to worry about my secret death
wish. Dangerous or not, I would not be able to live with myself if something
happened to Ryan and I had been able to stop it.

The sun had put itself to sleep and the lights were waking
up on boathouse row. The skyscrapers shined up ahead and the museum
majestically stood on the river edge. It really was a beautiful city. I prayed
it would still be beautiful once
The Walking Shadows
had done their
damage.

I had no problem finding the home of
The Blood of Cupids
MC.
It seemed that everything from that night had been burned into my
brain. I killed the engine and backed Ryan’s bike up against the curb. There
was only one other bike there. Hopefully I’d be able to talk some sense into
its owner. Hopefully they’d trust me enough to bring me to Ryan.

“Hello?” I called, arms in the air. “I need to speak with
someone.”

I quickly turned at the sound of broken sticks behind me,
but no one was there. The field was empty, except for myself. I guess I was
just hearing things.

All of a sudden, a forearm was around my neck, pulling me
back. I couldn’t breathe.

“Why hello, Gracie. Do you remember me?”

I couldn’t see his face, but the voice…the voice I
remembered.

“I…can’t…breathe…” I choked out. I tried to kick my feet,
but my energy was waning. “Please…”

“Shhh.” He whispered. I felt his lips on my jawline, and
then he nipped at my ear.

“No.” I squeaked with my last breath.

“Shhh.”

The lights dimmed around me.