RAGE: President & First Lady Of The Death Dealers MC (40 page)

***Raven***

Rock bottom. I’m there. It took me reaching the lowest point
in my life—trying to kill myself—to realize how far I’d fallen. It opened my
eyes to the miserable existence I’ve been leading and the effect it’s had on
the people around me. Especially Gage. It’s been hardest on him because he’s
borne the brunt of it. He’s the one who’s been in the trenches with me, the one
who’s had my back when it needed protecting the most. But there’s only so much
he can do. My life was shattered.
I
was shattered. Now, it’s time to put
the pieces back together. Like they say, when you hit rock bottom, the only
place to go is up. It’s time for me to start climbing.

First things first, I need to arm myself with information.
After all, that’s what I do—read. While Gage has been pounding on his punching
bag, I’ve been on my laptop doing research. There are so many sites dedicated
to sexual assault, so many brave women who’ve shared their own experiences.
Strong, kick-ass women like Oprah Winfrey, Maya Angelou, Madonna, and Mary J. Blige
have all opened up about their abuse. They persevered and went on to do amazing
things, so I know there’s life after rape. What happened happened, and there’s
nothing I can do to change it. What I
can
do is accept it and move on.
I’ll never be okay with it, but that’s fine. I have people to support me, so
I’m luckier than most. I’ve always had all the tools I needed for recovery; I
just had to recognize I was the most important one.

Maybe I should find an activity to take my focus off the
rape. Drawing isn’t working. I glance at Gage and an idea hits me like one of
his punches to the bag. Boxing. Why not? If I’m concentrating on beating
someone up, I’m not thinking about the rape, right? With that in mind, I slide
off the bed and slink my way over to him. He stops mid-punch and turns to face
me.

“What’s up?”

“I was wondering… if you’d teach me.” I nod to the bag.

His brows shoot up in surprise and he drops his arms. “You
wanna learn to box?”

“Yeah. Will you teach me?”

“Well, I can show you a few things, but you won’t be able to
do much until your shoulder heals.”

Crap. I forgot about that. “I could use my left hand in the
meantime.”

I move forward at his insistence and he positions me between
him and the bag.

“Okay, doll. First thing, you gotta relax.”

His hands on my shoulders startle me, but I shake it off as
he begins rubbing them. I close my eyes, wiggle my fingers, then clench and
unclench my hands.

“Now,” he continues. “Spread your legs, just a little wider
than your shoulders.” Once I’m in position, he says, “Good. You’re right handed
so you’d place your left foot forward. Just a regular step away from the
right.”

I step forward and look down at my feet. “Like this?”

He kneels and moves my feet to his liking, gently sliding
his fingers along my leg as he stands. I don’t know why, but it makes me
uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because my skin didn’t tingle the way it used to, or
maybe it’s because I’m afraid it’ll never happen again.

“Gimme a sec.” I head to the chest of drawers and try to
find something to wear. I grab a pair of cropped cargo pants and slide them on.
They’re tight around the thighs and ass, and barely button. I kick them off and
try a pair of shorts, then another. Same thing.
What the hell?
I look
down at my body, wondering just how much weight I’ve put on. I was never skinny
to begin with, so my ass must be gigantic right now.

“What’s wrong?” Gage inquires, seeing my frustration.

“My clothes don’t fit.”

“What?”

“I
said
my clothes don’t fit.”

“So? I’ll buy you new clothes.” He gives me a nonchalant
shrug.

“I don’t want to fit into new clothes. I want to fit in my
old clothes.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“The
big deal
is I’m fat. You won’t want me if I’m
fat.”

He walks over casually and cradles my face in both hands,
angling it so I’m looking at him.

“Babe... number one, you are
not
fat. Number two, I
like my woman with meat on her bones. Number three, and most important, I’ll
want you no matter what size you are. So... I’ll buy you new clothes.”

I open my mouth to speak then promptly close it. What do I
say? If I tell him it was a sweet thing he said, he’ll just deny it. But it
was. It was unbelievably sweet. In fact, it was perfect.

“You always know exactly what to say.”

“Just telling the truth, doll.”

He kisses my forehead then reaches into his drawer and pulls
out some basketball shorts for me. Once I’m dressed, we head back to the bag. I
place my feet exactly the way he had them then wait for my next instruction.

“Bend your knees slightly and put the majority of your
weight on your back leg. Bring your arms up, but make sure you keep them
relaxed.”

I’m actually starting to get excited. I want to kick the
shit out of this bag. He places one hand on the top of my head, the other under
my chin, and tilts my head down by a small degree.

“Keep your elbows in, hands up. Always protect your face.”

“Elbows in, hands up. Got it.”

“I’ll show you how to throw a punch. Once your shoulder’s
better, I’ll take you to the ring and we can work on movement.”

“Okay,” I agree.

He takes hold of my left fist, rotating it as he extends my
arm. “This is a left jab. From the chin out. You wanna make sure the punch
lands like this.” He points to the way my fist is positioned. “At a straight
angle.”

“Got it.”

“Push off your back leg and step into the punch, toward the
bag. Try it.”

I recite his instructions in my head and throw a tentative
punch.

“Good,” he encourages me. “Again.”

I throw another… and another. This feels better than any
therapy session I’ve had so far.

“You’re doing great, baby doll. This will be your go-to
punch until we can do more.”

I give him a big smile and turn my attention back to the
bag. On its surface, I envision the dark figure at my door. I land my fist
right in the middle of the image. It doesn’t disappear, but it flickers.

I’m going to beat you. I’m going to hammer away at you
until you’re nothing but a distant memory. You stole my life and I’m taking it
back. One punch at a time.

***Raven***

Elbows in, hands up, protect your face.
The words are
emblazoned on my mind since I’ve been reciting them for three months. Learning
to box was the best idea I’ve ever had. It hasn’t magically made my life a
fairy tale, but at least I’m
living
. I no longer just go through the
motions of each day. I started out small—spending my days outside of the
bedroom—and I got to know the guys better by hanging out with them every day.
Ellen came over whenever she could, and I got to play with Mikey. When I was
bored, I started doing housework. I cleaned Gage’s bedroom and took over his
laundry from Aunt Nita. Then I started helping out in the kitchen. Before long,
the Hounds deferred to me and I basically started running it. That pissed
Britney off. She doesn’t even come into the kitchen anymore, sticking to the
bar.

Gage was happy, and that’s all that mattered. He was able to
devote his time back to his businesses, but he came home for dinner every day.
Deena’s helped me a lot, too. I really don’t see how she could have been
friends with Lonnie. Other than being Hounds, they don’t seem to have anything
else in common.

Crow and Motor are the only ones with old ladies, but
Marlowe and Renae don’t come to the clubhouse much. On the rare occasions they
do, we get along great. They’ve even given me “old lady lessons,” which I’m
wondering if I’ll ever need. Things with Laurelyn are much better. We’ve been
talking almost every day, and I’m supposed to go visit in the summer when Dani
is out of school. Overall, things have been going pretty well for me.

As time passed and my shoulder healed, Gage stepped up my
lessons. Right now, I have Fort Minor’s “Remember The Name” coming through my
earbuds while I spar with Booker. I give him my left jab and he shakes his hand
out even though he’s wearing punch mitts. I know I’m stronger in that arm
because it’s all I could use until now.

“Damn, girl. Take it easy on me.”

“Man up, pussy.” I grin at him.

I’m ready to go again, but he drops his arms to his sides
and nods to something behind me. I pull out my earbuds and turn to see Gage
climbing into the ring. He yanks me toward him and crushes my lips beneath his.
His hand snakes down my back and he grabs my ass, squeezing the cheek. I moan,
throwing my arms around his neck.

We still haven’t had sex. Truth be told, both my mind and
body aren’t quite there yet. We’ve kissed. A lot. But we’ve never taken it
further and he hasn’t pushed me. The tingles have returned and every time I
look at him, I imagine him naked. I’ve thought about it but honestly, I’m
worried about pleasing him. What if I’m damaged? I’ve checked—stuck a finger
inside myself—and it felt okay, I guess. I even had Dr. E examine me and he
said I’m fine, but how will it feel for Gage? What if he doesn’t enjoy it? What
if I disappoint him? God, I couldn’t bear it if that happened.

“Hey, babe,” he whispers as he breaks our kiss.

“Hey.”

“Time to go.”

“But I’m not done.”

He moves into his caveman stance, hands crossed on his
chest, and frowns at me. “Your time’s up. Let’s go.”

“Ugh! Fine.”

He’s had this silly notion of limiting my time in the gym
because he thinks I’ve lost too much weight. I think I look great. After I
started working out, I went back to my original weight then lost five more
pounds. My body is toned and I have kick-ass abs. He put his foot down when I
told him I wanted a six-pack, then he started bringing home all kinds of junk
for me to eat, saying he needed to fatten me up.
Crazy
.

I throw a T-shirt over my sports bra and we leave the gym.
On the drive home, I turn to him as I sip my water. “What do you want for your
birthday?”

He raises a brow in question. “What do you want to give me?”

“How about a wet, sloppy blow job?”

“Yes, please,” he answers without a hint of humor.

“In your dreams, perv.”

“How do you know about my dreams?”

“Eww.” I punch him on the arm. “Gross!”

“Hey, you offered.”

“You’re getting a party. Deal with it.”

I’ve already gotten his gift, and I can’t wait to give it to
him. I’ve been planning this party for weeks, along with Aunt Nita and Ellen.
Chrissy and Toni have helped out with ideas, and Toni’s supposed to come in a
few days before.

“What do you think about the prospects?”

“They’re cool,” I answer. “Why?”

“We’re voting on their membership tonight. They’ve been
pretty good. I’m sure they’ll get in.”

“Yay! We should throw them a party.”

“We always do.”

He makes a turn and I realize we’re heading away from the
clubhouse. “Where are we going?”

“I wanna show you something.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

***Gage***

I park on the side of the road and hop out of the car. When
I open Raven’s door, she climbs out, looking around suspiciously. Taking her
hand, I lead her to the empty building and open the door.

“Whose place is this?”

“Mine.”

“You’re opening another business?” she asks wide-eyed.

“I was thinking of turning it into an office for E. He
doesn’t know about it, though.”

“Pays having you for a best friend, huh?” She grins.

She walks around the empty space, exploring the rooms. I
follow, watching her ass the entire time. I can’t help it. These last few weeks
have been especially hard. I feel like I’m in high school again, necking in the
back of the car. She always stops me when I try to do more. My hand has become
my best fucking friend. Literally.

“Stop staring at my ass.”

I snap out of my thoughts and look up at her. She’s facing
me now, arms crossed on her chest. “But it’s such a nice ass.”

She steps forward and slides her hands around my waist.
“You’re a good friend, Gage Hunter. I stand behind what I said earlier. You’re
a
good
man
.”

“I may do good things every now and again, but I’m not a
good man, Raven.”

“You may do bad things every now and again, but you’re not a
bad man.”

I wrap my arms around her, expelling a deep sigh. She
doesn’t know the extent of the horror show that is my life. Things have been
pretty calm since I met her, but it’s not always like this. If she sticks
around, she’s sure to see me for the monster I am.

I’m about to release her when she slips her hands under my
T-shirt. Her fingers dig into my lower back as she pulls me to her.

“Sometimes, you can be a real dick—”

“I acknowledge and accept that.”

“But,” she continues as if I hadn’t interrupted her.
“Sometimes, you can be extremely sweet.”

“I wish you would delete that word from your vocabulary.”

“Will you let me finish? There’s the dick I’m talking
about.”

“No.” I take her hand and press it to my crotch. “Here’s the
dick.”

She licks her lips and her fingers curl around my
already-hardening dick. Her touch is tentative as she trails her fingers down
the length. Her other hand glides to the back of my neck, pulling me down to
her. Our lips connect, drawing a deep moan from her. My hands automatically
reach for her ass, squeezing the cheeks. Her touch grows bolder, gripping my
dick as she continues to stroke me. I’m now fully erect, pushing against the
material of my jeans. As difficult as it is, I keep our kiss at half-mast. I
don’t want her freaking out. She pulls back and stares into my eyes with a
faint smile of surprise.

“It’s back,” she whispers.

“What?”

“Everything.”

She yanks my lips back to hers and slips her tongue in my
mouth. I pull her closer, loving how perfectly her body lines up with mine. Our
tongues tangle before I gently suck on hers. Her hands roam my back, nails
dragging over my shirt.
Maybe I should do nice things more often if this
will be her response.

“What would you do if I told you I also bought the property
across the street?”

She gives me a bright smile. “Depends on the reason you
bought it.”

“I got it for Ellen,” I explain. “She really enjoyed
planning…” I stop myself before I say “your birthday party.” I definitely don’t
want her thinking about that day.

“Planning what?”

“Parties. She likes planning parties. She’s been taking an
event planning course, so I figure I’d surprise her once she’s done.”

Her smile widens then turns into a smirk.

“Then I’d say that birthday BJ offer may be on the table
after all.”

Fuck.

I move forward, forcing her to step back until she’s trapped
against the wall. She giggles but stops short when I grab her thighs and lift
her off the floor. She grinds on my dick as it presses against her. I take her
lips, more forceful than before, but still not as hard as I want to. She lets
out a soft whimper, gripping me with her thighs. Her fingers weave through my
hair as her tongue lashes out, forcing its way between my lips. I can’t help
it; I reach under her shirt and palm her breast. Instead of recoiling, her back
arches. I don’t know how I’m doing it, but I restrain myself from freeing her
breasts from that damn sports bra.

“Gage…” she moans as I kiss down her neck.

I never love my name more than when it’s coming from her
lips. “Fuck, Raven. I want you so fucking bad.”

“You do?”

I pull back and stare at her incredulously. “How the fuck is
that a question?”

Her gaze drops but I grab her chin, forcing her to look at
me. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to lie next to you every night
and not touch you? To wake up every morning with your ass pressed against my
hard dick?”

With a timid shake of her head, she whispers, “No.”

“Hard, Raven. Damn near impossible. There’s nothing I want
more than to lose myself in you. To make you mine in every way.”

“Soon, Gage. I promise.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you, doll. I’ll wait. Just know
this: I
do
want you.” I move closer, resting my forehead on hers,
keeping our gazes locked. “I’ll always want you.”