Ridin' Dirty: An Outlaw Author Anthology (OAMC Book 1) (18 page)

Gage

I flinch as E pierces my skin with the needle. It turns out a few of the cuts need stitches. By the time we got to the clubhouse, I’d stopped bleeding so I was able to clean up. I’m now lying on my bed while E does his thing.

“You’re lucky the bartender saw you leaving with Cassidy. That’s what prompted Tek to track her car. What the hell happened?”

I relay the story to him and he chuckles.

“What’s so funny, fucker?”

“I can’t believe you let a woman get the drop on you.”

“I was drunk. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

“Sure thing, Reaper.”

As he bandages my wrists where the handcuffs cut into them, he looks up at me tentatively. I take a deep breath, knowing what’s coming next.

“You know, she rushed over here the moment she thought something happened to you.”

“So?”

“Look, I’m not saying forget about it. I’m just saying talk to her.
Try
to work this out. She loves you.”

I reply with a scoff.

“And you love her,” he continues. “I’ve never seen two people more perfect for each other.”

“Yeah. I used to think that, too.”

With a sigh, I turn away from him and find her standing in the doorway. Even from here I can see the tears in her eyes. She heard. She tries to blink them away as she walks in.

“I made you something to eat,” she announces, gesturing to the plate she’s carrying.

E gives me a pleading look then leaves the room. I sit up, taking the plate from her.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She sits at the foot of the bed, watching me eat. I’m only wearing boxers, and I can feel her eyes on every inch of exposed skin. I know she wants to come closer but she’s afraid of what I’ll do or say. Fucked up thing is I want her close… even after what she’s done. So what do I do? I be a dick. It’s the only way to distance myself from her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Miami?”

“I missed my flight.”

“So when are you leaving?”

“I,” her voice breaks. “I guess as soon as I get another ticket.”

I still don’t look at her. I can’t. “You done?”

She stands, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her fingers tremble as she wipes her palms on her jeans.

“I guess we are.”

She walks away, and it takes everything in me not to call her back. Stopping in the doorway, she turns, and I finally look at her. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, tiny sobs racking her body.

“I never meant to hurt you. I was scared and I should have just told you. It may not mean anything now but… I want you to know… that night you came back from Florida… I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“I saw you standing by the fire with your friends and I knew I was ready. I…” She stops, struggling to continue through her tears. “I was going to throw them out, but then you found them.”

“What do you think I would have done if you’d told me you weren’t ready?”

“I don’t know.” She wraps her arms around herself, staring at the floor. “‘Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them’.”

I know she did
not
just quote Bruce Lee to me. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“I know you’re hurt and angry… and a whole lot of other things but… I want you to know… I
do
love you.” She meets my stare, her eyes begging me to believe her. “You’re not just on my back, Gage. You’re on my heart… and nothing’s ever going to change that.”

I grit my teeth, mentally digging in my heels. I can’t let her affect me. I need to stay strong.

“Just know if you ever need anything…
anything
. I’m here for you.”

“Anything?” I raise a brow as I put the plate aside and make my way toward her. She just gave me the perfect weapon to use against her.

I close the door, crowding her with my body so she leans against it. Slowly, she lifts her face to meet my gaze.

“Anything,” she whispers, her breathing accelerating.

Reaching for the button on her jeans, I pop it and pull the zipper down. I slide my palm to her ass, pulling her to me.

“I always liked fucking you. Well, before I found out you’re just a lying bitch.”

She winces and closes her eyes, but doesn’t say a word. Maybe, in her mind, she thinks she deserves it.

“Maybe I made a mistake giving you my patch. Maybe I should have just made you my little fuck toy.”

She sobs, her shoulders shaking against me. I knew that last bit would hurt. They’re her words, flung at me when she wanted more than I thought I could give. Still, I persist.

“On your knees, Raven.”

I take a step back, giving her room as she falls to her knees in front of me. She wipes at her tears, trying to control herself.

“Now, suck my dick.”

The moment her fingers graze my dick, I get hard. My mind might be messed up but my body knows her too well; still craves her. She pulls my boxers down just far enough to release my dick. When she takes me into her mouth, I fist my hands on the door, fighting back a groan. Despite her current state, she doesn’t hold back. I watch as her head bobs, one hand stroking the base. But, she makes the mistake of looking up at me as her tongue slides over my balls. I snap. Pulling her to her feet, I drag her to the bed, pushing her on top of it. I quickly dispose of her jeans and rip her panties off. She stares at me, still not talking, but I see it in her eyes
—
she wants this. I just can’t give it to her
the
way
she wants it. Grabbing her ankles, I pull her to the edge of the bed, spread her legs wide, and sink my dick deep inside her. She cries out and I remain still, feeling her clench around me. Fuck if she ain’t dripping wet.

“Fuck….” I groan.

My eyes meet hers and my plan gets fucked. That look. That fucking look in her eyes every time I’m inside her. I can’t handle it. I flip her over, grab her hips, and slam inside her once more.

“Gage!”

“Don’t talk.”

I can’t bear to hear her say my name. I start to move but I’m confronted with another problem
—
her tattoo is peeking out the bottom of her blouse. Fuck my life. I close my eyes, pounding into her. Once I get this out of my system, that’s it. I’ll be done with her and she can leave. I hear her moans but I try not to pay attention. This is for me, not her. Her body doesn’t know that because she begins to tighten around me. She’s close and she’s taking me with her. Sinking my fingers into her hips, I pump into her tight pussy. She cries out, but buries her face in the bed, muffling the sound. As she convulses around me, I come, burying myself to the hilt. Her thighs tremble and she pushes her ass in to me. I slip out of her, wanting only to dive right back in. She turns to lie on her back, watching me. I head to the bathroom, but stop in the doorway. Just one last thing.

“Don’t be here when I get back.”

Raven

A soft touch alerts me to someone else’s presence in the room. I turn to my other side and find Dani in bed with me.

“Hey, pumpkin,” I say softly.

“Do you feel better?”

“I’m not really sick. Just a little sad.”

She sits Indian style, her little blue eyes softening.

“Is it Mr. Gage? Do you miss him?”

“Yeah, I do.”

I’m finally at the point where I don’t break down in a fit of tears whenever I think about him or hear his name. That doesn’t matter because I’m still dead inside. Sometimes I miss him so much, I feel like I can’t breathe. The day after he fucked me and chased me away, I left Stony View. I’m not even mad at him. Everything he said was out of hurt and anger, and I deserved it. The angry sex was amazing, but the one thing I won’t forget from that night is the way he looked at me as he stood at the bathroom door
—
with disgust. That was almost a month ago. I came to Miami, and for the most part, I’ve been locked away in my bedroom. Other than school, I haven’t done much. I haven’t spoken to him since then, either. I pick up the phone every day to call him but chicken out. If he wanted to talk to me, he would call. I don’t even know if he has the same number. I kept mine; kept the phone he gave me. That, and the tattoo on my back are the only physical reminders I have of him. I couldn’t take anything else; didn’t think I had the right to. I miss my “12 Gage” necklace the most. It’s the first thing he gave me that really said I was
his
.

“Call him… on the computer so you can see him, too,” Dani suggests.

“I’d like that. But… he’s kinda mad at me. I don’t think he’d talk to me.”

“Why would he be mad at you?”

“I did something I shouldn’t have.”

“Did you say you’re sorry?” she asks as she snuggles up to me. “Mommy always makes me apologize, even when I don’t want to.”

“I did.”

“And he didn’t forgive you?”

“No,” I whisper. “He didn’t.”

“Ugh! Boys are so dumb!”

I giggle softly, wrapping my arm around her. “They can be… sometimes.”

“I’m never getting married. When I can get a job, I’ll make my own money, and live all by myself.”

“You’ll need someone to talk to.”

“I have my dollies.” She turns to face me and stares into my eyes with a loving smile. “And I have you.”

I pull her closer, kissing her forehead.
Oh, to be seven years old and innocent again
.

“Yeah. You do.”

Gage

I walk into the house and it feels strange. The last time I stepped foot in here, it felt like a home. Now it’s just four walls and a roof. I haven’t been here since the day I walked out. I couldn’t, knowing she wasn’t here. The day she left, Charger brought her car to the clubhouse and dropped the key in my palm. I couldn’t bear to look at it, so I had Motor take it to the warehouse where I store all of mine. I don’t know what the hell to do with it. Painting it won’t make fuck of a difference, and I can’t bring myself to sell it. It’s just another reminder of her. Knowing she’s tatted on my back is one thing. I don’t really have to see it. Her name on my knuckles is another thing altogether. I see it every day. I
stare
at it every day, wondering if I should get it covered up. It’s a relic of the life I thought I could have… the one I never will. But I won’t get rid of it. It’s like the car
—
I’ll know what’s really underneath. Besides, it might keep me from making the mistake of trusting another woman again.

This last month, I buried myself in work and my flying lessons to try and keep her off my mind. I slept in my offices at the Kitty or Scythe most nights. Others, I crashed at the clubhouse. I only came here today to get some stuff to take back with me. That, and Allah was working my last nerve. I swear I’m going to empty my clip into his equipment. I finally had it when he played “Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down. In his own passive-aggressive way, he’s the only one to say anything, even if it’s through music. Everyone’s pretty much left me alone. Even E. Chopper still shoots me dirty looks but I ignore him. Especially when he tells everyone—when I’m in earshot—how he spoke to his “lil darlin’,” and how he keeps telling her to come home. Nita and Ellen barely speak to me, like Raven’s not the one who did
me
dirty.

I won’t lie. I
can’t
lie. I miss her. I miss her so much my chest aches when I think of her. I put up a front for everyone but I’m pretty sure they all know I’m dying inside. I don’t know which is worse; going to sleep or waking up without her in my arms. I haven’t even been on my bike much. Without her behind me, it seems pointless. She showed me what it meant to love and be loved. Now that she’s gone, I feel empty. Every time I pick up the phone to call her, I end up tossing it aside. There’s no way she’d want to talk to me after how I treated her that night. I was angry, but I had no right to say, or do what I did.

With a sigh, I trudge up the stairs to the bedroom. The bed is made and everything is in its place. The film of dust on the furniture is the only indication that no one’s been here in a while. I drop my duffle on the bed and head to the closet. Her half is empty, her cut the only thing remaining. It hangs there next to my shirts, taunting me. I slip it off the hanger, trailing my thumbs over the patch as I stare down at it. She’s the only one I ever thought of giving it to, and she’s the only one who’ll ever receive it. There’s no way I’m going down that road again with another woman. I toss it on the bed, intending to get rid of it.

I remove some clothes and stuff them in the bag. I notice a gift box on the closet floor, and throw it on the bed, too. The lid falls off, and a helmet rolls out. I pick it up, inspecting the art work. The face of the reaper on my car has been painted on the outer shell and visor, and the club logo is on the back. Raven’s tiny signature is on the side. Fuck. She did this for me. She customized a fucking helmet with her own hands. How fucking cool is that? Shit. I grab my chest, trying to soothe the sudden ache. Fuck that. This isn’t my fault. Shaking away the feelings, I drop it on the bed.

On my way to the bathroom, I glance at the dresser and see her jewelry box sitting there.
Why would she leave that?
I pick it up, flipping it open as I move to perch on the edge of the bed. Every piece of jewelry I ever gave her is sitting inside. She
would
be the one woman who didn’t keep jewelry after a break-up. Removing the “12 Gage” necklace, I stare at our names etched into the pendant, and think about the day I gave it to her. I’d already decided I was going to claim her. I picked up her cut the next fucking day. At the time, I just didn’t realize how much she really meant to me. She was always so proud to wear it, even though it’s nothing flashy
—
just a flattened base of a shotgun shell with our names. Still, she wore it like it was a diamond. Same thing with the bow ring. She never took them off. 

Her engagement ring. The day I gave it to her, I went down on my fucking knee and slipped it on her finger. She was so happy. At least I thought she was. I pick up the charm bracelet and brush my thumb across the little heart. I gave that one to her the same day I gave her the ring. They were both supposed to be reminders of how much I loved her; how much I wanted to be with her. Too bad they didn’t work.

I really thought she was perfect. She’s gorgeous, smart, funny… although she has a smart mouth, it was cute. She’s a good girl who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. She’s supportive; I have my Private Pilot License as proof of that. She didn’t give me shit about the MC, or anything else as a matter of fact. Not to mention she loves to fuck as much as I do. Even if I came home late and she was asleep, all I had to do was tap her shoulder and she rolled over. With a woman like that, I thought I’d died and gone to Heaven.

She said she was scared. Now that I’ve thought about it—and I’ve had a lot of time to think about it—she was right to be. There were reasons I never wanted any kids before I met her. I guess I deserve some of the blame, too. I never asked her what she wanted. I told her how it was going to be and that was that. What makes me mad is that she didn’t talk to me. Instead, she behaved like a child, hiding it from me. Then again, she’s so young. Sometimes I forget she still has a lot of growing up to do.

I go around the bracelet and each charm, remembering every day, every event they represent. The bike
—
that first day she climbed on the back of mine and wrapped her arms around me. Subconsciously, I think I knew right then she was meant to be there. The grill. I smile as I think about the first time I saw her, and her sassy mouth that made me want to fuck the attitude right out of her. The monkey. I remember sitting on her couch that night, watching TV and eating monkey bread. I think that was the first time I realized she was mine; that I
wanted
her to be mine. And fuck it, she is. She
still
is. I look over at her cut and the words on the rockers
—
“Property of Reaper.”

She’s
mine
.