Where Souls Spoil (44 page)

“Yeah,” Alex says with a smile on her face. “He really does love me.” Ryan stalks out of the room with Duke following not too far behind.

“You must have bumped your head awful hard,” I say. I keep my eyes on the purple comforter beneath me and pick away at the balls of fuzz. “I can’t believe you’re with Ryan.” She reaches out and swats my arm. My eyes fly up to her face, more than a little surprised that she actually smacked me.

“There’s a lot more to him than you see,” she says, jutting her chin out. I don’t know the girl very well, but so far I like what she’s showing me. I glance over at the now empty doorway and wonder if the same can be said about Duke.

“Yeah, but aren’t you just deluding yourself into only seeing what you want to see?”

“Nah,” she says. “My mom loves him, so that tells me there’s something worth loving even during those times he’s a bastard.”

“Ruby loves all of these guys. I wouldn’t trust her judgment,” I say.

“Did you come here to rag on me about Ryan?” she asks. I shift uncomfortably in place and blow out a heavy breath. I’m taking my shit out on her, and that’s not cool.

“Sorry, I just—Duke told me about all the shit that’s gone down,” I admit. She’s had the shit beat out of her already. The last thing she needs is my judgmental ass giving her crap.

“Oh,” is all she says. Her eyes travel around the room before they land on mine. She shrugs and sighs. Embarrassment shows in her features, and now I feel even more uncomfortable. It’s like I can’t say anything that’s not going to upset or embarrass her. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I mean, whatever. If you’re happy,” I say.

“That’s the thing, I’m not exactly happy,” she says. “Everything that’s going on right now makes happy kind of difficult. But Ryan is really good to me, and I do love him. When he lets himself be, he’s funny and kind.”

“And the rest of the time?” I ask, giving her a sarcastic smile. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“Love doesn’t work that way. I don’t get to pick and choose which parts of him I love,” she says. A smile returns to her face, and she slaps her knee. Scrunching her face up in sudden pain, she takes a moment to blow out a strangled breath. When her face refocuses on mine she shakes her head.

“I swear, I keep finding more bruises,” she says.

“Your life is so fucked up right now. I don’t even know what I’m allowed to ask about,” I admit. I mean, I want to ask her about her brother, and more about Ryan—God help me—and even about Ian. I know he’s not handling shit well, but the curiosity is going to kill me.

“You can ask me anything.”

“How are you dealing with the mom thing?” I ask. She lets out a short laugh, winces, and then settles back against her pillows that prop her up.

“I wasn’t at first. There’s nothing like a good old fashioned ass beating to put things in perspective,” she says honestly. “My adoptive mom died a long time ago, and I feel really guilty about this, but I’m kind of angry at her. She did everything my father ever wanted her to—apparently including raising his mistress’ kids—and she wanted me to be like that, too. It’s like I’m betraying her, but I’m really happy to be getting to know Ruby as my mom.”

“She’s pretty awesome,” I say. Alex’s head tilts to the side.

“I thought you didn’t like my mom.”

“It’s not that. Everything is complicated,” I say. After what Duke told me, I’m feeling more sympathetic to Ruby’s plight. She’s been mom to so many of us rejects. She deserves better than I’ve given her in recent years.

“Doesn’t seem complicated to me. Duke likes you and you like him. And I like you, and he’s growing on me. I think you guys could be good together,” she says.

“What is this, the biker love connection?” I say in a snarky tone. “But really, I can’t talk about the thing with me and Duke.”

“Can’t or won’t? I’m stuck in this house, and that means my primary source of information is Ryan. The only updates he wants to give me are ones that involve nudity. What he’s told me is a total mess.”

“What have you heard?” I ask, leaning in. I may not have many friends, but I know better than to pass up the chance to get a little dirt on what the club thinks is happening with me and Duke. Quite frankly, it might help me sort out my own head. I’m so into finding out what Alex has to say that I barely hear the heavy boots on the hardwood floor as they near the bedroom.

“You ladies talking about me?” Duke appears in the doorway, making me jump halfway to the ceiling. A smirk appears on his face as he nods at me.

Alex purses her lips and smiles big at Duke. She says, “Word on the street is you’re wifed-up.”

Duke nods and grins, saying, “I got me an Old Lady, and you got yourself a prick.” Alex scowls at his comment, but Duke just looks to me with an apologetic smile on his face, saying, “Sorry, babe. We gotta go.”

My face heats, and I scramble off the bed. Despite having enjoyed my time with Alex, my brain isn’t in the best place to gossip about relationships right now.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I turn to Alex and say.

“Visit me?” she asks. Begrudgingly, I nod and allow Duke to lead me out of the room. Maybe my next visit I’ll even say hi to Ruby and Jim.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and when I check to see why, there’s a new text waiting for me from Darren. WHERE ARE YOU, it reads. I send a quick text back saying HAVE 2 CANCEL. GONNA LET CLUB TK CARE OF DAD. BUT THNX.

Chapter 20

Duke climbs onto
his bike and I follow. From the front door, Ryan and Jim storm out and head for their bikes. We get comfortable, affix our helmets to our heads, and Duke starts her up. I wrap my arms around Duke’s waist and hold on tight as he peels off down the driveway and then onto Sherwood Road. I wait until we make it to the clubhouse and I’m climbing off the bike to ask why we left early.

“Club vote about Chief. Sorry, baby,” he says. I nod and take a deep breath before removing my helmet.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Like it when you ask questions,” he says. He’s smiling so wide that I think his cheeks have got to be hurting, and his eyes have a slight twinkle to them. He looks happy. He climbs off the bike and wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. And as we stand here, in the Forsaken clubhouse’s parking lot, I feel happy. If even for a moment, this feels good and right. And I want to believe beyond all doubts that I won’t lose this. I know Duke wants me, but would he want us?

Things are going so well between us. Just looking at his face with that big, stupid grin, I think there’s hope for us yet. We do a lot of eating and some cooking—on his part, not mine—and there’s some TV watching. There’s even a lot of fighting over the sink in the morning to brush our teeth, and there’s wall sex, and even kitchen sex. That’s what we mostly do. We bitch at each other and then have sex. We fight and then we have sex. Duke eats and then we have sex. There’s even a good bit of crawling into bed together, there’s spooning, and there’s waking up together. Even the mornings he has to wake up before me, there’s morning sex. And the mornings he gets to sleep in, but I have to work, there’s usually shower sex before he crawls back into bed wet and tired to sleep awhile longer. But that’s when he’s home, which he hasn’t been a whole lot of lately. And we’re good and solid. No spinning. This could work. It could.

“We should talk,” I say, because if I don’t talk to him about this I’m going to burst. I’m trying so hard to stay normal and keep a level head, but it’s almost impossible. I refuse to let myself feel excited over this, especially because I have no idea why I’d be excited over this—it was unplanned and we’re so unprepared. I might never be prepared.

“Can’t,” he says. “Nothing good comes from those words. Only bad shit happens when a chick wants to talk, and I got club shit to deal with. I got mob shit to deal with. I got your difficult ass to deal with. I got your fucking brother to deal with—kind of hate that kid, babe—and I can’t deal with anything else. So no, we do not got to talk.”

“You’re swamped, I get it. But we still need to talk,” I hiss. It’s bad timing, and I get that. But I’d rather tell him before he figures it out on his own, and I don’t even know how long I have until that happens.

“We ain’t talkin’,” he says.

“You’ll fuck me, just not talk to me,” I snap. I’m being argumentative and I know it. Begging for him to listen to me about something I’d rather not have to talk to him about anyway is setting me off. Everything is always on his terms, never on mine. And the times I think it’s on my terms are only because he doesn’t give a crap about it and therefore lets it be on my terms.

“Time to shut your mouth, Nicole,” he grits out and folds his arms over his chest as he eyes his brothers, who are pulling up on their bikes. I roll my eyes and shake my head.

“I don’t know who you think you are, telling me when I need to shut my mouth,” I yell back and turn to walk into the clubhouse for some peace and quiet in his room while he takes care of his business. I barely make it two feet before he’s grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. His right hand clutches at the back of my neck, and tilts it back, forcing me to face him. His left holds me tight against his muscular frame. He’s such a prick in front of the club. When we’re alone he’s all sweet and kind. But here, he’s a total asshole.

“You know who I am, baby,” he hisses just inches from my face. His overgrown beard tickles at my neck, and his breath—a mix of orange juice and maple syrup—washes over my face. He’s got a major sweet tooth, which has allowed him and Jeremy to bond over morning pancakes. Despite his assertion that he hates my brother, they’ve been getting closer as the weeks progress.

Leaning in, he blocks my view of everything that isn’t him. “I’m your man, and you’re my woman. And you need to get this and get it now because I won’t be repeating myself—here at the clubhouse, you’re to be seen and not heard. You need to learn to chill and not be in my face like you like.”

He releases me with such force I wobble back a step before righting myself again. Beneath the bubbling anger is that ever present pit of sorrow that threatens to engulf me.

Duke stalks into the clubhouse and slams the door behind him. The sound of metal on metal thrashing together violently makes me jump. I close my eyes and gift myself a moment of silence. All this shit that’s going on with the club and Alex is already weighing on him enough. He doesn’t need my shit, too. The way he held me in place and refused to let me go until he was good and ready shook me up. It was like he was taking possession of me, as though I was nothing more than a silly plaything that refused to work properly.

I work extra hard to keep my composure as I slink into the brightly-lit clubhouse after Duke. His heavy boots carry him through the main room then down the side hallway and into the chapel. He doesn’t look back or miss a beat as he walks through the open chapel doors and slams them behind him. The Lost Girls, Old Ladies, and family members of the club, who fill the crowded room, collectively stop what they’re doing to look at the doors of the chapel. Slowly, their eyes drift to me. The Old Ladies look at me curiously. They’re all here with the exception of Ruby—and maybe Alex now, too. Even Chief’s wife, Barbara, is here.

Not many of the Fort Bragg Forsaken have Old Ladies. They’re mostly young guys with strong appetites who aren’t ready to settle down. It’s been a running joke for years with the younger guys that once a brother is ready to settle down that means he has to find a new charter because he’s too damn old to take care of business properly. It’s what they said to Bear when he knocked up his girl and then married her two kids later. It’s also what they said to Diesel back when that shit went south with Julie, but that didn’t work out so well for them. Even Jim talks about how the club never thought he’d turn into such a pussy, but then he met Ruby. If there’s one thing these guys can agree upon, it’s this: family is the core of everything worth having.

I check out the tables around me and find that they’re all full with various boxes and decorations. Black toile spills out of one box, and dark red satin is falling out of another. Other tables are littered with magazines and empty beer bottles and even a bong. At one table in the corner are Chel and Dawn—neither of whom I’m up for talking to right now. Chel catches my eye and gives me a sad smile. She’s not been doing so well since Chief died. I never really got it, but she and Chief had a thing that wasn’t as much sexual as it was spiritual. Still, he loved his wife and she’s always been loving to me. I give Chel a small smile and cross the room to express my condolences to Barbara, who is seated between Layla and Mary. Layla looks as fucked up as ever. Her hands scratch at her jeans, and she’s twitching slightly, which must be making Grady mad as hell. No matter how good Grady is to that woman, she just can’t get her shit together.

Mary, Fish’s long-time girlfriend, stands up first. She sets down the catalog she’s been looking through and bridges the distance between us. She reaches out and gives me a quick hug that’s tolerable enough and says, “Hey girl.”

Pulling back, Mary makes room for Barbara to stand and take a step toward me. Barbara and Chief have been together for years, and even though she knew he wasn’t faithful, she’s loved him with everything she has since the day she climbed onto the back of his bike. In his own way, he loved her just as much. Her face twists as she sets her eyes on me. Her chin trembles, and she shakes her head. For the first time in years, I find myself rushing at someone to wrap my arms around them. As I grab a hold of Barbara and pull her into me, I suddenly feel the weight of her grief and the club’s loss. It’s not until this moment that it really hits me. My throat is so dry and my eyes water, but I fight it off, gulp down the whimper that nearly escapes me, and suck it up so I can focus on Barbara. She lets her body sink into mine as her hands clutch into my back and dig in painfully. I bite my lower lip to keep from vocalizing my struggle to keep from crying out in discomfort.

“Shit,” she says and slowly pulls back. She’s at least a good six inches taller than me and has a broader frame, but she wears it well. Her black hair is a mess atop her head, and for the first time in years, I’m seeing her without makeup. Wiping her eyes and sniffling, she gives out a frustrated laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you sooner,” I say. When Dad went to jail, Barbara was all over me and Jeremy. If Ruby and Jim hadn’t taken us in, she and Chief would have. She never hesitated to step into the role of mother when I needed one after my own bailed. Not that I ever really thanked her for it. Guilt swims in my belly, making me uncomfortable in her presence. She shakes her head.

“I was such a mess. I wouldn’t have known it even if you’d tried to reach out,” she says.

“Is there anything I can do?” I ask. Barbara’s eyes slide over my shoulder to the table in the corner that houses the only other Lost Girls in the room—Chel and Dawn. Her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow at me. For a brief second I think she’s going to chew me out. Barbara has never made a secret of how she feels about the women who hang around the club. She had a few cautionary words for me the first time she showed up at the clubhouse and saw me with Torque, one of the club members who has been locked up for the last year.

“I’d kind of like it if it was just family here,” she says and wipes her damp hands on her jeans. My face heats and I nod.

“I’m sorry I interrupted.” I put my hands up and give her an apologetic smile. I move to step away from the table when she reaches out and grabs my hand. My eyes fly up to hers, and she shakes her head.

“Not you, baby,” she says. Her eyes slide over my shoulder to the corner where Chel and Dawn sit, and she hisses, “Them.” My jaw goes slack, and I fight to make a sound. My brain is fighting the good fight, trying to tell her that I’m one of them and that even though I’m more selective than either of them is, I’m still a Lost Girl. But God help me, I like this. I like the way she’s treating me like I’m family, and I like the way that makes me feel. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m part of something.

“Um, are you sure—about me staying?”

“My feelings would be hurt if you didn’t,” she says sternly. I bite back a smile and lift my chin.

“I’ll, uh, ask the girls if they can make a beer run or something,” I say. Turning around and making my way across the room, I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself down. The sideways glances both Chel and Dawn are giving me make me want to go to Duke’s room and hide in there until he can take me home. But I go anyway, because this isn’t about me no matter how much I want to make it about me.

“What’s going on with The Hive?” Chel asks, referring to the three Old Ladies across the room. I look down and shove my hands in my pockets. We Lost Girls have always considered the Old Ladies like a hive of bees. Ruby’s the queen, and the rest of them buzz around making sure she’s happy and having her back when she’s not. It’s the reason that, contrary to popular belief, Ruby is the most powerful person in this town. Because if she’s not happy and Jim doesn’t fix it, then she tells her girls about it and then each one of them will tell their Old Man about it. Then when the brothers are sick and fucking tired of hearing about it, Jim finally does something about it.

“Barbara was wondering if you guys can make a beer run or something,” I say then wince. Lifting my head and looking Chel in the eye, I say, “She thinks we’re low for the number of charters that are coming up.”

“She couldn’t have asked me herself?” Chel says. Her eyes narrow up at me, and her tone is petulant. I scrunch up my face in frustration and work to keep my mouth shut. Chel knows damn well why Barbara isn’t going to speak to her directly. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that Chel’s hurting, too.

“You know that’s not gonna happen,” I say.

Dawn scoffs and rolls her eyes. She blows out a breath and says, “It’s not like every one of these guys doesn’t fuck around. That’s bullshit. Barb knew the score when she hooked up with Chief.”

“Look,” I say, now beyond annoyed that I’m having to go there. “Barbara’s just lost her husband. Her kids have lost their dad. She doesn’t want to be in the same room with the woman who’s been screwing her husband on the regular for the last two years. Is that okay with either of you?”

The chair she’s sitting in makes a horrid scraping sound as Dawn stands and puts her hand on her hip. “Listen, bitch. Just because you’re on the back of Duke’s bike doesn’t make you anything but his latest slut. So do us all a favor and get off your jizz-stained pedestal and wake up. You’re not Old Lady material,” she says. Chel squeezes out of her chair and folds her arms over her chest as she moves away from the table.

I take a step forward and pull my hands out of my pockets. All I can see every time I look at her is the scene from that night I walked in on her riding Duke. Try as I might—and I try really hard—I can’t forget the way she stared at me that night. The memory doesn’t come up often, but when it does I can’t help how pissed off I end up being. I thought at the time that she just liked it when people watched, but the way she’s going off right now makes me think that maybe she’s got a thing for Duke and that was some kind of power play.