RAGE: President & First Lady Of The Death Dealers MC (36 page)

“Closet,” she says in a stern voice.

“Okay. Jeez.”

I open the closet, and just like I expected, there’s not
much room for anything. I push his clothes to one side and consider the space.

“Maybe we can a fit a few dresses in here. The rest we’ll have
to put in the drawers.”

“Shoes?”

Dropping to my knees, I start re-arranging his shoes to make
room. That’s when I see the gift-wrapped box in the far corner. I wonder what
it is. Could it be the birthday present he told me he was going to pick up the
day of my party? If it was for me, he would have given it to me already, right?
Even though curiosity is killing me, I leave it alone. I’m not going to snoop
in his stuff.

We put away as much of my belongings as we can and fall back
into bed. Before I can get comfortable, Chrissy grabs my hand and pulls me up
and into the bathroom.

“In.” She points to the bath. “Sit.”

“Okay, Miss Bossy. And I thought Gage was bad. What are you
doing?”

She’s on her knees, rifling through the cabinet. She pulls
out a bag of disposable razors and a can of shaving cream then sits on the edge
of the bath.

“Legs.”

“You’re going to shave my legs?”

“Honey, have you looked at them lately?”

I take one look at them and give in. “You gonna shave my
cooch, too?” I joke. “Haven’t done that, either.”

She raises her brows. “Depends. Anyone gonna see it?”

“Not anytime soon.”

“You okay… down there?”

“Yeah. I’m all healed. It’s more of an emotional thing.”

“I understand. I’m sure he does, too. Take your time. Work
on this at your own pace. He’s waited this long, a little more time won’t kill
him.”

“I’m going to see a therapist. Hopefully, she can help me.”

“That’s a good start. But now, let’s take care of the small
things—legs first then your hair. All the color’s gone. Don’t worry, you’ll be
your old self in no time.”

I hope so, not just for my sake but for Gage’s. After
everything he’s done, everything he’s planning to do, he deserves it. He said
I’m “better,” but he deserves the best. And that’s what I want to give him.
I’ll get my shit sorted out and be the best damn girlfriend he could ever want.

***Gage***

Fuck, I’m tired. All this running around plus no sleep is
finally catching up to me. Atlanta was a total bust. The guys we found there
didn’t know much. They weren’t even expecting a shipment of Dutch Wife. The guy
in charge said the drug was still in its development stage and wasn’t ready for
distribution. How did a drug that’s not even on the streets yet end up in
Raven’s system? This puts me at a dead end, unless Tek can get into Briggs’
files. He’s been working on that laptop all day and I haven’t heard a peep out
of him.

I drop my duffel in the closet and begin to undress.
I
better take a shower before I find Raven.
Ron said the girls have been
helping Chopper and Nita in the kitchen. At least she’s not cooped up in here.
That’s a step forward. While looking for something to wear, I notice dresses
next to my shirts. I let the material of one slip through my fingers. I like
seeing them there. I like having her in my space. Right now, it may not be the
way I pictured it would be, but it feels good. It feels
right
.

I head into the shower and find her waiting for me in the
bedroom when I get out. She’s obviously on edge, pacing and chewing on her
thumbnail.

“You’re back.”

“Yeah. I was gonna come find you after—”

“How’d it go? What happened?”

I walk to the closet, unable to look her in the eyes. “Not
much. There was nothing there.”

“Nothing? What do you mean ‘nothing’?

Turning to face her, I hang my head in disappointment. “I’m
sorry, Raven. It was a dead end.”

She starts to hyperventilate.
Fuck.

“Dead end? You promised me you’d find him. You promised!”

I move toward her but she pulls away in anger, staring
daggers at me.

“What have you been doing all this time? This guy could be
in Timbuktu by now for all we know. It’s been over a month and all you can tell
me is that you hit a dead end?”

“Lower your voice.”

“I will
not
lower my voice!” she screams.

“You’re pissed, I get it. But so am I, and I’m not shouting
at you.”

“What do
you
have to be angry about? That you won’t
be my first anymore?”

That stung. I know it’s her anger talking, but it doesn’t
hurt any less. “I’m pissed because it’s my fault!” I shout. “I’m the reason
this happened to you!”

“You keep saying that. Why? What did you do? What do you
know that I don’t?”

“I promised you I’d protect you and I didn’t. You got hurt
because some motherfucker thought it was the best way to hurt
me
. You
may have been the one attacked, but I have to live with the fact that it
happened on my watch and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Bullshit!”

“You think this is about sex?” I ask. “I could have had you
at the snap of my fingers if I wanted to. How many times did you beg me to fuck
you, huh? You were practically throwing your pussy at me.”

Her expression changes. That’s when I know I’ve fucked up.
She narrows her eyes and her body begins to vibrate. Her fingers curl into
fists at her sides and she stomps her foot. Without warning, she launches
herself at me with a scream.

“Motherfucker!”

She lets loose, pummeling my chest with her fists. I try to
grab her hands without hurting her but she starts to kick, too.

“How dare you! How could you say that?”

I finally manage to subdue her, turning her around and
pulling her against me. She squirms, trying to get away.

“Let me go. Don’t touch me, you bastard!”

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, asshole. Would you rather I throw
my pussy at you?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, babe.”

“You meant it and you can’t take it back.”

“I’m going to let you go, but you have to promise you won’t
start hitting me again.”

“I’m not promising anything, fuck boy. Let me the fuck go.”

Boy, she can really come up with insults when she’s
ticked off. I’ve gone from bastard to asshole to fuck boy in the space of a few
seconds.

“Raven, stop.” She goes still in my arms. “I’m going to let
you go now, okay?”

She doesn’t answer, but I take her silence for consent. I
slowly release my hold on her and she pulls away as soon as she’s able to.
She’s back to staring at me again like she wants to kill me. She has all this
pent-up anger and I think I know a way to help her release it.

“I have an idea,” I tell her. “Will you go somewhere with
me?”

“Why would I go anywhere with you?” She crosses her arms on
her chest.

“I promise it’ll be good for you.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“
No
.”

“Babe… please.”

“Fine.” She gives me a dirty look then cuts her eyes. “I’ll
go, but I won’t like it.”

I finish getting dressed then lead her out to the Mustang.
She drags her feet the entire way then stares out the window once we’re in the
car. Trying to get back on her good side, I stop at Sweet Treats and buy her
the strawberry cheese pastries she loves. She takes the container with a
sideways glance then goes back to ignoring me while she eats. I leave her to her
thoughts because I don’t want to set her off again. When we arrive at our
destination, I pull into a parking spot and open her door, watching as she
steps out reluctantly.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You’ll see.”

I try to take her hand but she brushes me off, so I give her
some space. After opening the door, I step inside and turn on the lights before
I allow her in. She looks around in confusion, arms folded on her chest once
more.

“I repeat, why did you bring me here?”

It’s a gun store. Razor’s, to be exact. All the members get
a share of the Pretty Kitty and the auto parts store, but I encourage them all
to have their own things going on. Razor’s thing is guns.

“This way.” I motion for her to follow me and take her
through the door that leads to the back where there’s a shooting range. I have
a locker here where I keep a few guns and extra ammo for when I want to let off
some steam and the punching bag doesn’t help. I grab a mag and set up a target,
then hand her a pair of ear muffs. She’s still giving me the evil eye, but she
accepts it and puts it on. I swap out the mags, placing the extra one on the
bench, and hand her my Glock. The way she’s feeling right now, I pray to God
she doesn’t shoot me. She takes it, weighing it in her hand as she stares down
at it.

“Thirty-three rounds. Just let it go.”

She takes one last look at me then turns toward the target.
It doesn’t take her ten seconds to line up. She doesn’t swing her ass from side
to side like I’ve seen most women do, just gets right down to it. Her ass does
look amazing, though. She’s wearing shorts, so I also notice she’s shaved her
legs. I know this isn’t the appropriate time, but seeing her standing there
with my gun? Fucking sexy as hell. Then I see the scars on her legs. She’ll
have those reminders for the rest of her life. I clench my jaw then take a deep
breath. Tonight is about
her
anger, not mine.

I put on my ear muffs as she chambers a round, watching as
she unloads the mag into the target. She releases the empty mag and replaces it
without missing a beat. That one only has seventeen rounds, so she empties it
in half the time. The slide locks but she releases it and stands there, aiming
at the target.

“Raven—”

She spins to face me, racks the slide, points the gun in the
center of my forehead, and presses the trigger. Her breathing is labored and
there are tears streaming down her cheeks. When she realizes what she’s done,
she gasps, ripping off the muffs. After removing mine, I take the gun from her
carefully, and place it on the bench before she collapses in my arms. Her body
shakes from her sobs as she throws her arms around me, clutching the back of my
shirt.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh. I’m here, Raven.”

“What if—”

“It wasn’t. It was empty.”

“Oh, God! I could have killed you!”

“You didn’t,” I try to console her.

“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry!”

“I know, doll. I know.” I hold her until her sobs die down
to an occasional sniffle and gasp.

“About earlier… I know you’re doing everything you can. I’m
just
so
pissed. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her as I hand her my bandana.

She stares up at me, sniffling and wiping her cheeks. “I’m
sorry I called you an asshole.”

I smile, sliding my fingers through her hair. “It’s cool.
You ever call me a fuck boy again, I’m tanning your ass.”

“Promise?”

I quirk a brow at her as she gives me a weak smile. I missed
playful Raven, too. I don’t know how she switched gears so easily, but I’ll
take it.

“You sure you wanna go there?” I ask.

“I’m sure… fuck boy.”

I grab at her and she takes off running with an excited
shriek. I don’t know what got into me but I chase her, all around the fucking
room. Every time I’m close to catching her, she screams and changes direction
on me. She stops running and faces me, knees bent like a football player,
bouncing on her feet.

“What’s the matter? Too slow, fuck boy?”

“
Oh
... you are gonna get it.” I warn.

“You have to catch me first.”

I fake her out. She jumps but doesn’t run. I fake once more
and she laughs. The third time, I lunge at her but she doesn’t get far before I
catch her around the waist, pulling her against me. I back her up against the
wall, facing away from me. She wriggles and squirms, trying to break free. Her
ass is rubbing on my dick and it’s quickly waking up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just playing. I didn’t mean
it!”

“I warned you, baby doll.”

I lean in to her and she goes still, her laughter dying
down. Instead, her breathing grows ragged and I know it’s not from all the
running. I bury my nose in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent.
She’s not
ready
. I chant the words in my mind to keep from doing too much too soon. I
can’t rush her but fuck, it feels good to have her in my arms like this.

“Gage... please... stop.”

I release her immediately.
It was good while it lasted.
She faces me, her expression despondent. I smile, letting her know it’s all
good. She takes my outstretched hand and I lead her back to the firing line. I
inspect the target and see her shots were concentrated in two areas—head and
crotch. Pretty good grouping, too. Her dad taught her well.

After putting everything back in its place, I lock up and we
head home. The drive back to the clubhouse is pretty much the same as the one
to the shop—quiet. Only this time, she’s sad not angry.

Inside the clubhouse, preparations for Thanksgiving are in
full swing. Every year, Chopper and Nita make a feast and we all get together—members,
families, Hounds, everybody. The place smells amazing. Allah’s playing away in
the DJ booth and everyone seems to be having a good, chill time. It’s all about
being together, not getting wild.

“You wanna head back to the room or you wanna hang out here
for a while?” I ask Raven.

“Here.”

I take her over to the couch and she curls up next to me,
placing her head on my chest. Nita comes over, offering us mulled cider. We
each take a cup and she smiles then leaves. We sit together, quietly sipping
cider, and watching everyone enjoy themselves. That is, until Chrissy comes
over.

“Awww... you two are so cute. Like, the cutest couple ever.”
She sits on the table in front of us, eyes darting between me and Raven. “I
need to find you a couple name.”

“Couple name?” I ask with raised brows.

“Yeah. You know, like Kimye or Brangelina.”

What the fuck is a Kimye?
I stare at her with a blank
expression. It doesn’t deter her, though, and she starts throwing out names.

“Gagen... no... Ravage... no, not catchy enough.”

She sits there pondering until Raven intercedes in a low
voice. “Rage.”

Chrissy gives her an “aha!” stare then claps excitedly.
“Rage! I love it! That’s your couple name. ‘Rage’.”

Before I can get sucked further into this ridiculous
conversation, Tek walks up with a worried frown. I excuse myself and take him
to my office.

“Talk to me.”

He hands me a sheet of paper and takes a seat.

“I got into Briggs’ files. Dutch Wife wasn’t in full
production yet. That’s a list of potential distributors. Apparently, he gave
them small samples to test out and see if they wanted to sell for him.”

I start reading down the list. I go through a few names I’ve
never even heard of and then I find one I know. All too well. “Fuck!”

“What you wanna do, Prez?”

I want to rip his fucking head off. That’s what I want to
do. I’m going to string him up by his feet, cut off his balls, and feed them to
him.

“Just remember what you said about starting unnecessary
wars.”

Fuck. Tek’s right. I take a deep breath and try to calm
down. First, I’ll give him a chance to explain himself. I know what it’s like
to be falsely accused. “Give me a minute. Let me talk to him.”

When Tek leaves, I find the number in my contacts and hit
dial.

“Well, if it isn’t the Grim Reaper,” the voice comes from the
other end. “Not a good sign when you come calling.”

“You got that right, motherfucker.”

“Choose your words carefully, Hunter.”

“You want words? I’ll give you two. Dutch. Wife.”

He goes silent for a beat then asks, “What about it?”

“You tell me, Ace. Tell me how days after a confrontation
with your boys, my girl gets raped. Tell me how you’re one of the few people
who have access to the drug that was used in that rape.”