Death of Cupids (The Blood of Cupids MC) (11 page)

Ryan

Hours had to have gone by.  I paced, I curled up on the
couch, I punched the cushions, and I waited.  I waited for Sean to come,
to take me from this place, and to promise me that Grace was okay.  I
needed that.  I needed the confirmation that my wife and unborn child had
survived his antics.  I needed a reason not to kill him.

I had no idea of the time when I finally heard the door
creak open.  It had to have been early morning, as I was feeling the
effects of a night without sleep.  My bones were chilled from the frigid
air, and my mind was begging to stray from the truth. 

I replayed my last few moments with Grace: the perfection of
her skin, the smell of her hair, the depth of her eyes, the whispered
I love
you
.  It was those moments I would take with me from then on.  I
imagined that she was still with me, that she could hear my thoughts.  Her
voice calmed me as I prepared for what was waiting on the other side of that
thick metal door.

Part of me hoped it was Danny, that I could at least see
someone who I had a shred of faith would eventually realize the fault of his ways. 
But I was not so lucky.

Sean stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad
chest, and his smile taking up his entire aged face.

“So I hear you made a smart decision.”

“Is Grace okay?”  I didn’t have time for his
quips.  I needed my confirmation.

“Slow down, kid, we’ll get to that.”

“We’ll get to it now or the deal is off.”

“Are you really forgetting my part of this deal?  You
don’t have the authority to call it off, Ry.”

I inhaled deeply, trying my best to subdue my temper. 
“Sean… Please.”  It was all I could muster.

He cackled.  “Awe, that was pathetic, kid.  That
was probably the saddest plea I’ve ever seen.  And, c’mon, you know there
have been quite a few people that have begged me for their lives.  But,
okay, since we’re family and all, this one I’ll give you.  Drum roll,
please!” He was having too much fun at my expense.  I loathed him so much
in that moment.  “Ryan, you can breathe easy.  She’s fine.  She
woke up in the hospital.  She’s coming off the drugs quite nicely.”

Although it was unsettling to me that he so freely knew this
information, I was glad he had offered it up.  “And the baby?”

“Oh yes, the baby.  Congrats, by the way. 
Fatherhood… “ He trailed off, “there’s nothing like it.”

“Sean.  The baby.”    

“Oh chill, the baby is fine as well.  Your little
family will live to see another day.  Whoop de doo.  Wow, what the
fuck happened to you?  You used to be so…” He narrowed his eyes at
me.  “We’re going to need to fix this.”

I hated him.  I hated him so much.  My cheeks began
to burn with rage as my fists clenched.  I thought about how easy it would
be to knock him out right then and there.  I would lock him in his own
jail and make sure he never saw the light of day again.  Unfortunately, I
still had no idea how many people were working for him.  If I knew Sean,
he had a plan B if something were to go wrong.  Killing him now could have
drastic side effects.

“So, you ready to get started?”

What kind of a question was that?  No, I wasn’t ready
to convince people that my enemy was someone to be followed.  No, I wasn’t
ready to spend the rest of my life bowing to his will.  And no, I still
wasn’t ready to accept that I might never see Grace again. 

“Let’s do this.”  He didn’t need to know how not ready
I was.

“You’re going to need some clothes.”

I had been standing there in my boxers with the blanket
draped over my shoulders. 

“I guess you’re right.”  I snickered.  I wasn’t
about to show him any vulnerability.  For all he would know, his games
would have no effect on me.  My new mission was to harden, to hide my
emotions.  I would not allow him to see me crack; I would not give him the
pleasure of knowing how much his actions had burned me.

What’s funny is when you spend so much time pretending to be
hard and untouchable, you have a difficult time distinguishing the act from
reality.  If you stay in the act long enough, you forget whom you
were. 

If you play the monster long enough, you become the monster.

To my little one,

I dreamed about you last night.  I dreamed that you
came home from your very first day of school, looked at me with your giant
green eyes, and asked me about your father.  You were so innocent,
inquisitive.  You didn’t understand why your question upset me.  You
wrapped your frail frame around mine and told me it would be okay.  You
told me that you’d be ready to listen when I was ready to talk.

The thing is, my little one, I don’t know if I’ll ever be
ready to talk.  Your father has been gone for three months now, and this
morning was the first time I didn’t wake up screaming.  I have lost
everyone: my mother, father, aunt, and love of my life.  The only thing
that keeps me going is you.  You are the last thing your father gave to
me, and for that reason, I will love you for the two people you will always be
in my eyes: not only my child, but a piece of your father.

One day, you will ask me about him, I do know that. 
I promise you, I won’t be prepared.  I promise you that I will break
down.  I promise you that you’ll need to pick up the pieces.  But I
hope you will learn that the reason I can’t speak of him is because he meant so
much to me.  One day, you will ask me about him and all I will be able to
say is that he was my today, my tomorrow, and my everything past the light.

Your mother

Grace

Though technically still spring, the heat of the day seemed
a bit extreme.  My belly was beginning to push out, but you couldn’t tell
just yet with my loosely fitted top.  I wasn’t ready for the world to
know, even though everyone was a stranger to me.  I didn’t want to admit
to the passersby, or mostly to myself, that I was about to be a single
mother.  

I strolled around the corner to the grocery store, with my
list in hand.  The list was a joke.  I made one every few days, but
the cart always ended up doubly full.  New cravings kicked in as I walked
down each aisle.  The one that always got me was cake batter.  I’m
not saying cake batter ice cream or cake batter cookies; I’m talking about
fully on its own, cake batter.

My phone began to ring as I entered the frozen foods
section.  That was never good; it forced me to hold steady in front of the
ice cream.  I stared at all the flavors while I pretended to listen to my
boss.  She was the only one who ever called me.  She was the only
person I really knew anymore.

I had gotten a job as a personal assistant, or rather, a
virtual assistant.  I didn’t need the money, but I needed a
distraction.  I needed to not spend every waking moment thinking about
Ryan.

Holly Hidea… yes, pronounced like ‘idea’ with an ‘h’ in the
front… was this eccentric millionaire who had made a fortune selling baby
headbands.  I’ll repeat: Holly made millions a year selling headbands for
babies.  I had to laugh, but hey, she found her niche.  She was
looking to break into the toddler headband market, and needed someone with
exceptional organization skills to manage the new products.  I fudged my
resume a bit, but ultimately, even without real experience, I was a good fit
for the job.  Mostly, I knew how to talk to her.

She was going on and on about a former college roommate who
was trying to steal her ideas.  I added in my ‘oohs’, ‘ahhs’, and praises
for her, while I piled the cart with two quarts of cookie and cream ice cream,
chocolate syrup, and whipped cream.  Damn ice cream sales; they get you
every time.

Before I knew it, I was through the check out and onto the
street, still listening to Holly’s antics.  Then, her dog was chasing her
neighbor’s pet squirrel, so she had to run.  What had my life turned into?

I had been holding the phone between my ear and shoulder, my
hands full of grocery bags.  What did I even buy?  As I was failing
at finagling a way to get my phone into my bag without dropping any groceries,
I was startled by a voice behind me.

“Miss, do you need help?”

The bags went down, as did my phone, as did my mood. 
“Fuck me.”  I let out, not caring who heard it.

“Wait.  Grace?”

I looked up to the voice.  “Mark?  Hi.”

Wow, it was two words, but boy did it feel good to have a
conversation with a familiar face.

“Here, let me help you.”

We both bent down, grabbing at the food that was tossed all
over the sidewalk.  He then took the bags, insisting that he would not
allow me to carry anything, and followed me around the corner to my
building.  We caught up the way people who don’t really know each other
do: how’s work, anything exciting, those types of questions.

When we reached my door, I turned to him.  “I’m sorry I
didn’t get to say goodbye when I left the hospital.  There was a lot going
on.  But I appreciate your kindness.”

He snorted, like actually snorted.  “I don’t expect
every patient to say goodbye to me.”

“Right, of course.  That was silly, I guess.”

He handed me my groceries and took a step back.  “It
was nice running into you Grace.”

“You too, Mark.”

He gave me a little wave and walked back in the direction
from where we had just come.  I pushed my way into the building, up the
steps, and into my apartment.  Then I smiled. 

It was weird.  I couldn’t remember the last time I had
smiled.  My husband was missing, most likely dead.  Why was I
smiling?  And why did I feel guilty for feeling joy from running into
Mark?

After putting the groceries in their proper place, I
collapsed onto the couch.  I allowed my head to fall backwards, and I
nodded off.

I dreamed of Ryan.  I woke up screaming.  

Ryan

“The prospects just finished cleaning the warehouse.” 
I slammed the door behind me as I entered the office.

“What are they doing now?”

“I’m making them clean it again.”

Sean and I both laughed.  I had rounded up a group of
thirty-two prospects over the past four months.  From that group, we
planned on keeping about half.  The other half, well, I was going to let
Sean decide what to do with them.

“You know kid, you’re good at this.”  He patted me on
the back.

“And you didn’t think I deserved to be vice president of the
Cupids.
”

“I’ll admit when I’m wrong, and I was wrong.”

Sean, the man who had berated me my entire life, the man who
killed my Pops, the man who had tied me to a wall and tortured me, the man who
kidnapped my wife and locked her naked in a cold cellar, had just given me a
compliment.  What was even stranger was that I was pleased. 

Something was working.  We were getting things
done.  We had built a new club from scratch.  I would never forgive
him, but I began to understand him.  I began to feel for him.  I
began to agree.

The dungeon Sean had built under the
Cupids
clubhouse
was turning out to be quite an asset.  Danny was stationed there during
the day, gathering Intel on their actions, their plans, but mostly their
clients.  For every client they cultivated, we found a way to give them a
better offer.  Sure, I felt a little shameful that I was betraying my old
club, but the power, that feeling of success, greatly outweighed any hint of
guilt.

Our game was mostly drugs.  Sean had a number of
respected suppliers in the area that owed him favors.  We’d get our
stashes for practically nothing, then sell, or trade.  I liked trading for
the assault weapons.  When I needed to let off some steam, they were the
perfect outlets.  When I found myself thinking of Grace, I just aimed at
the river and held down the trigger.

Sean had stayed true to his word, never once seeking out
Grace.  He swore to me that his vendetta was over; that he had what he had
wanted all along.  For the first time in my life, I believed him.

Sean and I seemed to plan and scheme all day long.  We
had ideas, so many ideas, and everything we thought up, soon was set in
motion.  Everything we set in motion became a reality.  I had never
seen or heard of that kind of progress in a club.  We were quickly
becoming rising stars and it was about time we made our presence known.

“So the
Cupids?
”

“What about them?”  I casually questioned as I took a
large bite of my cheesesteak.

“What are we doing with them?”

“Take over?”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.  Any we
dispose of?”

I thought through the guys.  None seemed to be
threatening.  A take over wouldn’t be that big of a deal.  And if
anyone fought us, well, they asked for it.

“Case by case basis.  I want Rock though.”

“Rocky?  Why?”

“Always good to have a doctor around.”

“I always thought he made you soft.”

Interesting. 

“Or maybe it was Grace.”

Was it Rocky?  Was it Grace?  Or was it me? 
I had been unhappy for quite some time in the
Cupids. 
I wanted out
even before Grace.  But now, I loved the power, the respect.  I loved
taking care of things, getting the job done.  I loved not worrying about
someone else.

I loved not worrying about someone else.

It was in that moment that I first saw the monster, the part
of me that was changing.

Then I saw him again.

“Uh, Ryan?”  One of the senior prospects peeked his
head around the door.  “A few of the guys are asking about breaks.”

“Breaks?”

“Yeah, like a few minutes to eat.”

“Are you one of these guys?”

His eyes darted down and to the left and then up again, but
he never answered.  I said nothing, only stood, took two steps toward him,
and punched him across the jaw.  When he fell to the ground, I spread open
his legs and kicked him in the balls.  I stopped his screaming by dumping
my soda into his open mouth.  Then I came down directly onto his stomach
with the heel of my boot.

I stood him up, holding all his weight in my one hand. 
“Go ahead and answer their question about a break.”

I pushed him out of the door and slammed it shut.  I
laughed quietly under my breath, oddly satisfied that I had proven my
point.  Sean began to clap from behind me.  The face I saw as I swung
around was one I had never seen from him.  It was happiness, pride, but
mostly love.

“I do believe you’re ready for the surprise I have for you,
Ryan.”