“Fuckin’ finally,” Mack says, coming into the kitchen.
“Gee, Chief, good choice,” I point out. “Warrior here should keep you entertained for a few hours.”
He gives me a confused expression, while Sandra glares at me. “You’ve got a bad attitude, Santana,” she spits.
I laugh. “Aw, I’m sorry, is my bad attitude offending you? Why don’t you go lie on Mack’s bed with your legs apart. After all, it’s the only reason you’re here.”
“Oh, I’ll be doing that. And you’ll be hearing me scream while he fucks me, because,” she curls herself around Mack, “didn’t you know . . . the Indian fucks good.”
My mouth drops open. Nobody . . . nobody calls Mack an Indian. His jaw ticks, but he says nothing.
“Seriously, Chief?” I say, my mouth open. “You’re going to let her insult you.”
He steps forward, flicking her off before curling his hand around the back of my neck. “I’ve been listenin’ to shit for hours now, I’m pissed off, I’m horny, and I couldn’t care if she came in dressed like a God damned Indian princess to impress me. I’m goin’ to take her upstairs, fuck her a few times, and throw her ass out. End of story.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He grins at me.
Then he lets me go and takes hold of Sandra’s arm. “Move it.”
She flicks me a smile before disappearing up the stairs with him. Ew. I join the girls again, and we pop our second bottle of wine.
“She’s such a . . . tramp . . .” Indi mutters.
I laugh loudly. “Indi, honey . . .” There are more giggles from the girls. “I think that’s the point.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
2008 – Santana
Three months.
I’ve been here now for three months.
It’s been three months since my sister’s life was so cruelly taken.
I don’t want to go on; what’s the point? I just want to join her, taking myself out of this misery. How could Kennedy have let anything happen to her? He was supposed to take care of her. He promised . . . he . . . promised.
The pain in my soul hasn’t numbed. It hasn’t done anything but grow inside me, until taking my life is all I think about. She was the only thing I was fighting for. Without her, I have nothing. No one. I’m just an empty shell of a person, living each day because no one will let me go.
Maddox . . . he’s amazing. He takes care of me, holds me when I cry and soothes away the nightmares. He can’t bring her back, though. He got me clean, even though the days are still so hard. He gave me shelter, but it’s not home without Pippi. He gave me a friend, but that’s not something I can return.
“That’s it!”
The loud shout of a man has me turning my head towards the door to see it swing open. It’s Mack. He’s Maddox’s adopted brother, and I haven’t really had a chance to get to know him. He’s just been here helping Maddox since I came in. He’s spent a lot of time barking at Maddox to get me off my ass and stop letting me wallow.
“Get up,” he barks, charging over to the bed and taking hold of my skinny arm, hauling me up. “He might baby you, but I’m not going to. I’ve sat here and watched you wallow for fucking months, feelin’ sorry for yourself. Get your ass up, and get out and fix your fuckin’ life.”
I’m in shock for the longest moment; I just stare at him as he pulls me towards the door. Then my resistance kicks in, and I push my heels into the carpet. “No! Let me go!”
“No fuckin’ way. You’ve been sittin’ here refusin’ help for too long, now.”
“That’s how I want it to be,” I scream. “I never asked him to save me. I never asked to be here. I want to die, but none of you will let me.”
He lets me go so suddenly it scares me. I stumble a few steps before steadying myself. He spins around, taking an angry step forward while pulling his gun from his pants. He points it at me. “You want to fuckin’ die? Huh? You want to fuckin’ die?”
His eyes are two deadly daggers, shooting into my body, daring me.
“Yes!” I scream, dropping to my knees. My ratty hair falls around my face. “She was all I had. I’m nothing without her.”
“I’ll kill you, if that’s what you want. I’ll pull this trigger and put a bullet through your skull right now-”
“Yes.”
“But tell me somethin’ real before I pull this trigger. Is this what your sister would want for you? Would she want you to die for her? Would she be proud of you for letting me shoot you? Would it make your family look down on you with honor to see you on your knees, weak, pathetic, and broken . . . begging to end your life?”
I look up at him, trembling. He doesn’t understand. He’s probably never felt this kind of desperation before. Never felt the way it eats at you, burrowing into your soul and taking everything you are, crushing it until all that’s left is an empty shell.
“They wouldn’t . . . They couldn’t . . .”
“Is this how you want to honor your sister’s life?” he barks, cutting me off. His face is a mask of the worst thing a person can see—disappointment. He’s disgusted in me for letting myself get so low.
“No!” I scream, tears streaming down my face.
“You have a fuckin’ second chance that she didn’t get. You goin’ to throw it in her fuckin’ face by wastin’ it away like a fuckin’ coward?”
“Stop!” I cry, pressing my hands to my ears.
“Well?” he bellows, taking a demanding step forward and causing little whimpers to leave my throat.
“No,” I scream so loudly my voice cracks. “No . . . God . . . no.”
“That’s what you’ll be if I pull this trigger. I’ll do it, if it’s what you really want . . . or . . . or you can get off your knees and start piecin’ your life back together without the danger of the past loomin’ in every corner. Maddox has given you a home, a family, safety and comfort. You decide how you want to honor the work you’ve put into your life so far. You give it up, or you get up, take my hand, and keep fuckin’ fighting.”
I lift my head brokenly and stare up at him. He’s got the gun pointed at me with one hand, and his other hand stretched out, offering me a second chance. His words burn into my soul, they burn in a way no words have ever burned before. I have a choice. I have a choice Pippi didn’t have. It’s up to me how I choose to use it.
To go on or to end.
I reach up, curling my fingers around his. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing a sigh of relief. I’ve no doubt Mack would have shot me, if that’s what I’d have really wanted, but it would have ruined him, and he knows it. He curls his fingers around mine, too, and pulls me up. I fall into his chest, exhausted.
It’s time to piece my life back together. For Pippi.
~*~*~*~
2014 – Maddox
I throw my leg over the bike, kicking the stand down and shrugging off my jacket as I stare up at the walls of the prison. Fuckin’ huge, fuckin’ awful. Krypt pulls in close beside me with Tyke. They get off and he hands Tyke the crutches he uses when he doesn’t want to use his chair. A shudder goes through Krypt as he stares at the place he’s more than familiar with.
“Ready?” I ask, reaching into my jeans and pulling out a cigarette. I light it, taking deep drags and letting the burning smoke fill my lungs to calm me, before dropping it. Fuck. Here goes.
“Yeah,” Krypt grunts, shooting me a hostile glare.
He’s furious at me, I already know he is, but there isn’t time to go over it right now. I need him beside me, and he fuckin’ knows it. He can throw a fuckin’ tantrum later, when this shit isn’t so raw.
“Let’s do this.”
We go through intense security just to get in for a visit. We’re scanned, felt, asked basic questions, and sent through metal and drug detectors. We’re not allowed to wear our colors in the prison, so we’re in basic clothes. When security is done, we’re lead through cramped halls and given angry glares as we make our way to the visitors’ room. We’
re here to see Kennedy. It’ll be the first time I lay eyes on the man who fucked my girl’s life.
“Second booth,” the guard barks. “Two of you only.”
“I’ll sit here,” Tyke says, nodding at a chair.
I jerk my chin at him, and then turn to Krypt. “Don’t say anythin’ unless you need to, got me?”
He nods. “I fuckin’ know how it works, Maddox.”
“I know that, boy,” I hiss, leaning closer. “But you’re goin’ to fuckin’ humor me anyway.”
He shoots me an angry glare, but doesn’t argue further. We walk to the second booth and sit down. It’s a basic communication center. Bullet-proof glass, ensuring we can’t access the prisoner on the other side. Phones—two on my side, one on his. Nothing more. No pens. No papers. Nothing.
We sit for five minutes before two guards appear holding onto a prisoner. I stare at the man, shocked. Not what I expected. Fuck, not what I expected at all. Aside from his prison outfit, he is the meaning of sophistication. Salt and pepper hair, eyes the color of champagne, a chiseled jaw, and straight posture. In a suit, he’d be the perfect lawyer.
I expected a roughed up, tattooed bastard. Not this. Definitely not this. He sits down, meeting my expression and a slow smirk appears on his lips as he reaches out, lifting the phone. Krypt and I do the same.
“Well well,” he says, his voice a low, professional purr. “I’ve wondered what you’re like. After I heard who you were, it got me curious.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Ditto.”
He drums his fingers casually on the bench. “How can I help you, Maddox?”
“You know exactly why I’m here, Kennedy. Don’t play coy with me. I’m not goin’ into details,” I say, flicking my eyes to the guard standing in the corner. “But you know what I want.”
“And you know what I wanted,” he lets his eyes flick around behind me, “but she isn’t here . . .”
“Santana doesn’t wanna see you.”
He narrows his eyes. “See, you’re lying now. I know that’s not true. If you’ve told her the truth then you and I both know she wouldn’t ignore me, because she knows I’m the only one who knows what happened to Pippa.”
Fucker is right, and he knows it.
“She’s...” I can’t tell him she doesn’t know. “In a bad way right now. She ain’t ready.”
He laughs, low and throaty. “You haven’t told her yet, have you, biker?”
Then the fucker tuts at me.
“Poor Tanie. And to think she probably trusts you.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call her that, and you ain’t no better than me, asshole. Leavin’ her to die.”
He flinches. “I never wanted to hurt her. I loved her. She was precious to me in a way you can never understand. I wanted to see her, and you didn’t bring her to me.”
“I said I’d get her to you, and I will,” I lie. “But first I want to talk.”
He stares lazily at me. “About what?”
“Where is Pippa?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My jaw grinds. “You want to see that girl, Kennedy, you’ll tell me what I need to know.”
“She’ll see me regardless.”
I lean forward, and even though it really does nothing in regards to threatening him or making him feel intimidated, I do it anyway. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Santana and I . . . we’re lovers, she’s my old lady, which means if I don’t want her to come here, I’ll make sure she doesn’t.”
His face pinches, and something truly broken washes over his expression. “You’re a liar.”
“Am I? How much are you willing to bet on that? After all, it was me in her bed last night. You tell me what I want, Kennedy, or I’ll make sure she never steps foot in this prison.”
His jaw ticks. “Peter Caler.”
I tilt my head to the side, giving him an expression to encourage him on.
“Find and speak to him. He has some information you’ll need. I’m not giving anything else until I see the girl.”
He won’t either, I can see it in his eyes.
“Fine, then we’re done here until next time.”
“Better hurry, biker,” he says, a slow smirk appearing on his face. “You ain’t the only club lookin’ for Pippa.”
Then he slams the phone and stands, and my world fuckin’ spins.
CHAPTER TWENTY
2014 – Maddox
“It’s fuckin’ Howard, I know it,” I bark, pacing up and down the side of my bike.
“Don’t fuckin’ matter who it is,” Krypt snarls. “Someone else is lookin’ for that girl.”
“Why, though?” I bellow, clenching and unclenching my fists.
“Because there is no better way to fuckin’ bring you down than to destroy her . . . People have figured out she’s important to you, wouldn’t be hard to dig up shit about her past and find what they needed. It would destroy you if something happened to Santana, and therefore the club would suffer and become weak . . .”
“Fuck,” I snarl. “Fuck, fuck.”
“You gotta tell her, Maddox. This shit needs to end before her or her sister, or fuckin’ worse . . . both . . . are killed.”
“I know, and I will.”
“Fuck.” He runs his hands through his hair with a growl. “How much is it gonna take for you to see shit is bad?”
“I fuckin’ know,” I roar.
“No,” he barks, taking a step closer. “You fuckin’ don’t. You’re a selfish bastard who is thinkin’ about his cock, and not his girl.”
I swing my fist, and crack him hard in the jaw. My temper has finally weakened its restraints. He goes back a few steps before gathering himself and lunging forward. His fist hits my jaw, hard and fast. It makes a horrible fucking crunching sound as my head swings to the side. Fucker can punch.
“Enough!” Tyke yells.
Krypt and I circle each other, blinded by rage.
“You need to stop bein’ a fuckin’ selfish, motherfucker!” he spits, baring his bloody teeth.
“And you need to keep your fuckin’ nose outta my business.”
“It’s fuckin’ club business now, people’s lives are at fuckin’ risk, and you need to fuckin’ sort it.”
“What do you fuckin’ think this is?” I roar, lunging at him again.
We go down in a heap in the dust, fists flying. Tyke tries to pull us apart and ends up on his ass in the dirt, the only thing that stops us. Krypt snarls, shoving me back harshly, and helps him up. His face is covered in dirt mixed with blood, and I’ve no doubt mine is the same.
“I’ll fuckin’ do it, understand?” I growl.
He doesn’t answer me. He helps Tyke on the bike, and shoots me a truly feral glare before climbing on his. I do the same. Fuck this. Fuck it all. I’m going to lose her before I’ve even had the chance to have her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
2014 - Santana
We’re well on our way to being drunk when Maddox, Krypt and Tyke return. Mack hasn’t once emerged from his fuck-fest in the bedroom and we’re in the kitchen, giggling and laughing like children. We hear the bikes, and Ash squeals happily that her man is finally back. It’s just hit evening, and they’ve been gone all day.
Krypt comes in first, and we all stop what we’re doing.
He’s beaten up. Seriously. I blink a few times, shaking my head. His lip is split, his eye is puffy, and he’s covered in dirt. Ash rushes over, her face a mask of concern as she stops, putting her hands on his chest. “What happened?”
Krypt stares over at me for a second, before muttering, “Got into it with Maddox.”
Tyke comes in then, and aside from being dirty, he’s not hurt.
“Where is he?” I ask, watching the door, waiting for him to come in, but he doesn’t.
“Sulking in the garage.”
I shoot him a glare before putting my wine down and walking out into the garage. Maddox is on his bike, staring down at the gas tank.
His big body is covered in dirt, and he’s got dried blood on what I can see of his face. He looks up when he hears me enter, and our eyes hold and meet.
“You okay?” I ask.
He shrugs. He’s not okay. Whatever happened between the two of them has upset him. I make my way over to him, stopping when my thighs hit his bike tank. I reach out, running my fingers down his dirty cheek.
“You two got into it good, eh?” I ask.
He shrugs again.
Music above begins to play, and I realize it’s the sound of Mack singing. He has somewhat of a talent with the guitar, and he writes his own music. His voice flows down into the garage.
There is nothing more defining than the moment your lips find mine . . .
I swallow and take the hem of my shirt, lifting it up and over my head. Maddox looks up. “You wanna shower with me, big guy?”
God there’s something in his eyes . . . something so truly broken. What did they do today? What hurt him? Who upset him so badly? My heart aches to see him like this. I reach over, running my fingers down his scruffy cheek. He leans into my hand, almost affectionately, tilting his head and rubbing his cheek against it.
He stands up, not asking me to take anymore clothes off, and not taking his own off, either. He reaches out, taking my hand, and pulls me against him. Then we’re dancing to the soft sound of Mack’s voice above, our bodies moving together, our eyes locked. His hand slides down my back and rests against my hip, using it to drive our swaying.
This moment, oh this moment, babe, it changes time.
I slide my hand up his arm, over his muscled bicep and up onto his shoulder. I squeeze, loving how the muscles feel flexing and pulling. He presses his forehead to mine, his expression saying so much more than his words ever could. I can feel what he’s trying to put across, and I hope he can feel how much I’m giving it back.