Fractured & Formidable: The Sacred Hearts MC Book V (6 page)

“You did it m’girl!” she whisper-cried. We knew better than
to disturb daddy’s football game.

“Melinda!” he called. My mom quickly chewed and swallowed
the rest of her chocolate and called back.

“Yes dear!?”

“Bring me a root beer!” he called.

“I’ve got it Daddy!” I called.

He shouted back, “Is your name Melinda!?” I bit my lips
together and my mother sighed softly and gave me a sad smile. I nodded and
handed her a root beer from the fridge, the good kind, in the bottle. My mother
opened it and took it and a glass out to my dad.

“I don’t want that!” he said irritably and my mother
returned with the glass.

I swallowed, mouth dry, and we set to work fixing dinner. If
my dad knew about the chocolates before dinner… Holy crap. He would have gone
off
.
My father, in addition to being a pastor, had this antiquated notion about how
things should be in his home. No sweets before dinner, dinner always served by
six, homework done by seven and everyone in bed by eight. It’s how it had
always been. Exceptions rarely, if ever, made.

My mother and I set to work in earnest fixing a decadent
Sunday dinner of glazed ham, biscuits, salad, green beans and mashed potatoes.
We always,
always,
ate at the dining room table. Television off. Table
must be set precisely one half hour
before
any food came out. Not a
thing out of place, the house immaculately kept to the point it looked as if it
came from a magazine spread.

We all took our places at the table that would normally seat
six. My father at the head, my mother to his right and me to his left. We bowed
our heads and my father began the meal time prayer.

“Dear Heavenly Father, we would like to give thanks this
evening for the food we are about to eat, for the health of our family and for
my congregation. Thank you Father, for gifting me with eloquence and allowing
me to speak your word to so many this morning,” he paused and I thought to
myself,
here it comes
and sure enough, “Father, I would ask that you
teach my willful daughter obedience, so that she may attract a proper husband,
and gift her with the intelligence to read and understand time, so that she may
not be late in the future to partake in your teachings. Amen.”

I cringed inwardly and squashed my inner voice, which for
the moment sounded a lot like Everett screaming,
Why don’t you just trade me
for six goats and a cow while you’re at it Dad!?
I bit the inside of my
cheek and clenched my jaw firmly shut on the notion of saying any such thing to
my temperamental father and instead quietly said ‘amen’ and unfolded my napkin
in my lap.

“Why were you late Autumn?” he asked. I swallowed hard and
rolled my lips together, smoothing them and suddenly wished for some lip balm.
Which was crazy, I had to answer him, my thoughts just didn’t want to. I
decided on the truth, which was rarely if ever a good idea, but I tried
valiantly to do as my father bid me, and he bid me constantly to be honest.

“I slept through my alarm Daddy. I apologize, it won’t
happen again.” Short and sweet, I didn’t even try to argue my case. There was
no saying anything about long hours in the shop I shared with Everett, nothing
about staying hours after closing to perfect this or that recipe, or to make
sure there were enough chocolates to stock the display case for the upcoming
holidays. My daddy was an exacting man and with a hard twist in the center of
my chest, I painfully realized just how much I missed Mr. Moran, Everett’s dad.
It broke my heart that my father couldn’t or wouldn’t love me like Mr. Moran
loved Everett and even me.

“Sloth is one of the severest sins. The church is holding a
fundraiser just before the holidays. I expect you there to help,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy,” I nodded and he banged a fist on the table top
causing the flatware to jump, myself and my mother along with it.

“Don’t use that sullen tone with me girl!” he raised his
voice.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way, I just
meant that of course I would be there to help!” I stared at my father wide
eyed, and held still. He stared at me with an unfriendly gaze and my mother
interjected quietly.

“Jim, darling, I’m sure our Mandy-girl didn’t mean for it…”
my dad’s hand flashed out and caught my mother in the mouth in an open handed
slap. My mother cried out and pressed both of her small hands over the red
print left behind and pressed her lips together, her shoulders hunching, eyes
downcast and subservient, I did the same, casting my eyes to my plate. The
silence was the loudest I had ever heard it. All of us tense.

“Eat your dinner. The both of you,” my father ordered and
with shaking hands my mother and I automatically began to shovel small bites of
food into our mouths. There were no tears. We didn’t cry. My father had no use
for tears and all they did was make him come unglued even harder. We finished
the meal in tense silence and waited patiently for daddy to get up and go back
to his football game. As soon as he did my mother and I travelled wraithlike
between the dining room and kitchen, clearing the plates.

I was on the final trip from the dining table to the kitchen
when I caught my mother at the kitchen sink. She gripped the edge as one side
of the two basin sink filled with hot sudsy water. Her fingers turning white
from her death grip on the counter. She bowed her head and her shoulders shook
with silent sobs. I went to her and hugged her from behind. My mother always
tried to draw his ire off of me, sometimes, like today, it worked. Other times,
not so much. I hugged her from behind and Everett’s words from two weekends ago
echoed back to me.

For the first time ever, I contemplated it. I really did. I
wondered what the look on my father’s face would be if he opened the front door
to see Dray or even Zander standing on the stoop with vengeance in their
hearts. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes as my mother sobbed at our kitchen
sink. I prayed really hard for forgiveness and that my father would realize
what a bastard he was and would come to his senses, would seek out some help…
I’d been praying for these things for as long as I could remember and they
hadn’t happened yet.

“Why do you stay with him?” I whispered and my mother patted
my hand with hers.

“You wouldn’t understand Mandy-girl, you wouldn’t
understand.” She sniffed and wiped beneath her eyes and thrust her hands into
the hot water filling the sink. She was right, I didn’t understand. I don’t
think there was anything that
would ever
make me understand.

She washed, I dried. It was how it had always been. Our
kitchen didn’t have a dishwasher. When everything was in its place, and
everything sparkled and looked perfect as it should, I gathered my purse from
the kitchen chair under the wall-mounted telephone. Another testament to my
father’s outdated and antiquated way of thinking. The house had a land line and
he wouldn’t hear anything of carrying a cellphone.

“I love you, Mom,” I murmured and hugged her close.

“Oh, I love you too Mandy-girl,” she hugged me tightly.

“Daddy! I’m leaving!” I called.

“Drive safe, Autumn,” he grumbled from the living room, but
don’t mistake it for being a sweet gesture, no. He just didn’t want to pay
higher insurance premiums or for any damage done to my car. I’d been amazed
that my mom and dad had bought it for me in the first place upon graduation but
had later found out that Mr. DelBene, a congregant who owned a dealership had
suggested it and that he had given them an incredible deal on the car. My
father never missed an opportunity to look good, like an upstanding pillar of
the community or like a doting and loving father. He believed in leading his
flock by example. If only his flock knew what an utter farce his examples were.

I left quietly and drove home. My mood, as always after a
Sunday spent with my family, was sullen and borderline morose. I pulled up to
the curb in front of the house I shared with Everett and Dray in our quiet
little neighborhood and just felt mentally and emotionally drained. Like I had
no energy whatsoever. I dragged myself up the front steps and let myself into
the house and found Dray slouched down low on the couch.

“Hey,” he said, dark eyes sweeping from my booted feet to my
face where his dark eyes stopped cold and his eyebrows came down in a crushing
frown.

“C’mere,” he ordered struggling to sit up. I sighed and
complied dropping onto the couch a cushion away. I knew Dray was a sweetheart
deep down inside by the way he looked at my best friend, by the way he treated
her and yes even me, but he was still a deep and dark and brooding soul on a
good day and intimidating as could be.

“Talk to me,” he leveled me with that dark and thoughtful
gaze of his.

“Nothing to really talk about, had a nice visit with my
folks…” he snorted cutting me off.

“That’s bullshit!” he called me out. I bit my lips together.
He looked me over thoughtfully.

“Where’s Everett?” I asked.

“Dance studio. Don’t change the subject. You go over there
every Sunday and come home looking like someone just kicked your favorite
puppy.”

I flinched inwardly and hoped like heck it didn’t show on
the outside. I fixed Dray with my best wide eyed innocent look, which pretty
much doubled as my deer in the headlights look which is really how I was
feeling right now. He sighed out and raked his fingers through his hair,
pulling it back from his face when I’d been silent too long.

“You gonna make me ask?” he demanded and gave me a hard
flinty look. I nodded mutely and his mouth cracked wide into a grin.

“You can be a royal pain in the ass just like Em you know
that?” he demanded and my shoulders dropped.

“You guys have an argument?” I asked. He gave a shrug that
could mean nothing and could mean everything, his face impassive. I sighed and
got to my feet.

“We aren’t done. Something is going on with you and Em won’t
break your guys’ bro code so…” he raised his eyebrows and willed me to fill in
the blanks. I smiled wanly.

“Just a lot to do, for the church and the upcoming holiday
fund-raiser,” which was true, just not all of it. “I’m off to read and relax, I
have a lot to do tomorrow for both it and the shop. You really shouldn’t worry
so much but it’s very sweet that you do.” I kissed Dray’s cheek and he gave me
a crooked grin.

“Okay Mandy-girl,” he used the nickname my mother and
Everett had been using on me since the dawn of time. “I’ll let it go for now,
but don’t think Zander will go easy on you. He’s a right pain in the ass if you
present him with a mystery.” He winked at me and I stiffened.

“You didn’t!” I gave him a considering look and his face
said it all, he most certainly
had.
My shoulders dropped, “You did.” I
chewed my bottom lip and Dray’s overall look softened. He sat up and pulled me
into a hug.

“You’re my Em’s family, which makes you the entire MC’s family,
Red. It’s been a year you been living here and that’s an entire year of Sundays,
watching you come home half wrecked and watching it take the better part of the
week for you to put yourself back together,” he pursed his lips and when he
didn’t get anything from me, huffed out a harsh sigh and continued. “And for
what? For you to go over there and have the damn cycle repeat itself?” He sat
back and held me by my elbows and searched my face.

“Now, as your honorary big brother I am obligated to kick
someone’s ass for making my baby sister…” he frowned, “You never cry, but you
get what I’m sayin’ here.” I nodded.

“Really Dray, you’re making something out of nothing,
nothing at all,” I smiled and it was both equal parts sad and tired. “I’m
grabbing a shower and bed. Tomorrow’s horizon is a lot closer than I’d like it
to be and I have a lot to get ready for.” he let me go.

“Night then,” he said and sounded more frustrated than happy
about it.

“Good night, Dray,” I smiled and went past him and into my
room. My bed was still made from the day before seeing as I hadn’t slept in it
but my robe and nightgown which I had carelessly discarded that morning on the
floor, were neatly laid out on the bed for me. There was a note on the robe
written on the back of a discarded envelope.

Hey Red,

Text me when you get home. I’m kind of missing you
already. Last night was real nice. Wow. Awkward. I wish this message would
self-destruct once you read it. It makes me look like some kind of pansy.
Anyways, here’s my number. Hope I hear from you.

-
Revelator
… Zander.

He left his number under his signature and I couldn’t help
but smile to myself. His handwriting, for a guy, was actually lovely. A looping
flowing script that made my cursive look positively terrible by comparison. I
went to my dresser and tucked the envelope between the frame and the silvered
glass of the mirror, right below the first picture ever taken of me and Everett
from the second grade.

I frowned and picked up my small ampule of Lily of the
Valley perfume oil from the varnished wood’s top. I set it back in its place
beside my deodorant on the medium silver tray that held all my perfume, makeup
and toiletries. I couldn’t for the life of me recall if I had put any on this
morning and simply set it back on the dresser top instead of where it belonged
in my rush to get out the door. I looked over everything and satisfied it was
where it belonged and the perfume was the only thing out of place began to
change for bed.

I read my Kindle, a Christmas gift from Everett two years
ago, for a while before my uncontrollable yawning forced me to tug the bead
chain on my bedside lamp and set the kindle aside for the time being. Dray was
right, visiting with my parents really did take it out of me.

Revelator…

As soon as Red was out the door, her small blue car pulling
away from the curb, I went back inside. I finished cleaning up the kitchen from
the night before which really just means I put soap, which I conveniently found
under the sink, into the dishwasher and ran it. Like a total fucking creeper I
found myself back in her bedroom. Everything was perfect and neat in here. Like
something out of a magazine or some shit except for her robe and nightgown
which lay in a puddle on the floor.

I stared for a long time at the creamy pool of satin lying
there against the gray carpet and all I could do was picture it sliding down my
Red’s alabaster skin, those freckles of hers spattered across her lush curves
and smooth skin like the stars across our universe. God damn the girl was under
my skin!

I was miserably hard in my shorts and I already had a deep
and abiding ache in my balls when she’d pushed off of me that morning. I picked
up her robe and nightgown and laid them out side by side over her crisply made
bed. She had everything tucked and creased with military precision and when I
picked up the edge of her comforter and peeked, I half expected her sheets to
be folded into prison corners.

I’d spent enough time in Juvie and later in County for
assault & battery and the occasional drunk & disorderly to know what
those looked like. Hell, I used them myself on my own bed at home. Her bedroom
was done in soft greens and creams. The furniture white and done all classic
rustic farmhouse. The walls a subtle, light mint. Her comforter had subtle ivy
patterns on it and her sheets, from what I could see, were matched to it.

She had one bedside table, the full bed pushed flush against
the wall on the one side and at the head, tucked neatly into the corner of the
room. On the nightstand rested a reading device in this green leather cover
with a giant oak tree on the front. Some Celtic thing. A glass of water stood
by if she needed it and a really nice stained glass lamp with lily pads, water
lilies and jewel bright dragonflies presided over it all.

I decided I’d better leave a note or something, I didn’t
know if she still had my number or not. I looked around and found an empty
envelope slit open at the top just chillin’ on top of some other miscellaneous
trash in her wastebasket by the dresser. I picked it off the top and pulled a
pen from a cup of ‘em underneath on a shelf built under the drawer on her
bedside table. I smoothed the envelope flat on the dresser when this little
glass tube caught my eye. It had a matte gold top and a pastel label in pinks,
yellows, greens and blues. I picked it up and smiled to myself. The purple
script on the label said Lilly of the Valley Perfume Oil. I twisted off the cap
and breathed it in.

Yep. That was it. The clean, delicate, flower scent that
drove me fucking wild every time I caught it lingering in the air near where
she’d been, or when I held her close. Only it wasn’t quite the same. It was a
funny time to remember it, but I recalled some bitch I was banging back in the
day asking me how something smelled on her when we were out at a shopping mall.
She’d said that perfume smelled just a touch different on everyone. That no two
people wore it exactly alike or some shit. I could believe that, that some of
the smell that twisted me up and turned me inside out was just purely Red.

I capped the vial, twisting it tight and set it down on the
dresser. I needed to get the fuck out of here. I was pretty sure I was square in
the middle of being a creepy-ass stalker fucktard, so I wrote out a quick note
with my number at the bottom, laid it on her bed and returned the pen where it
belonged. Then I got the fuck out of her room and locked the place up tight
behind me.

I drove home, put in a brutal morning workout, showered, ate
and spent a decent chunk of time at my drafting table drawing up some random
tattoo designs to stay in practice. Couldn’t tell you why all of them were
girly as fuck and along the same damned theme. I ended up with any number of
crosses surrounded by ribbons and lilies and even spent some time plucking out
some random inspirational bible quotes for some of it. I figured if anything,
with as many of the small drawings I put to a single page, they would serve as
some decent flash art for the walls of whatever new place me, Trig, Dis and Ash
opened up. Like a phoenix, Open Road Ink would rise from the ashes at some
point. Might as well be ready for it.

Huh.

Phoenix.

Not bad.

As soon as I was done with the Christian flash I started on
a mythical creature set starting with a phoenix. I must have been at it for
hours. It was a good way to kill time on a Sunday. Around four in the afternoon
I started stealing glances at my phone which was chillin’ dark and lonely on
the edge of my table. Around four-thirty, I found myself willing the damned
thing to light up. Around five I willed it to ring, and by seven I was getting
seriously fucking agitated, my knee bouncing of its own volition, expending
nervous energy.

I hit the gym for a hard evening workout to burn off the
rest, docking my phone and using it to blast music in the home gym. I don’t
think I took my eyes off it as I went through rep after rep building chest,
arms, and upper body. This was fucking ridiculous man! I was like a teenage
fucking boy all over again! I ain’t been a teenager in a long damned time and
this
shit
was like living some of the worst fucking parts of it that I’d never
actually
had to live before. I had
never
wanted for pussy. Not then and to be
honest, not fucking now either. I could have any club whore I wanted writhing
underneath me in the space it took me to grin at ‘em but that was the giant
problem here.

I didn’t
want
a random piece of pussy. I wanted Red.
And Red didn’t operate like any other girl I had ever known. She didn’t care
about looks, she didn’t give a shit about what kind of car I drove or how much
green was in my pocket. I dropped the hand weight to the floor and sat for a
long minute, chest heaving, sweat cooling, gelling into place on my skin.

“Hey Disney!” I yelled and waited, and waited some more.
Shit. Not home. I got into a shower and let the hot spray ease the tension
between my shoulders. It was almost eight-thirty and still no call or text. I
closed my eyes and every time I did I couldn’t help but picture Red’s angelic
face, smoothed into lines of utter contented peace as she’d rested against my
chest the night before. I’d spent fucking
hours
last night memorizing
the moment. Every line, every detail, while SoA had played on mindlessly in the
background. God I was hard again. Only this time I was in a position to
do
something
about it and so I did. Still, jerking it in the shower was a frigid comfort and
one shitty consolation prize.

I thought about going over there but I held myself in check
for the moment. I dried off and pulled on a pair of comfortable basketball
shorts to wear around the house. I checked my phone
again
and was
surprised to see a text from Dray.

Dray: She came home around six. Something’s got her down,
she went to bed pretty much as soon as she got here.

Me: Should I come over?

It felt like fucking forever before my phone buzzed in my
hand with a return message. My breath whooshed out and I shook my damned head
over the fact I’d even been holding it.

Dray: Naw man. Let her sleep but might not be a bad idea
you took over watch at their shop if you got time.

Me: Anything you say VP.

Dray: Not telling you this as your VP dude. Tired of
watching that girl come home missing pieces if you get me. It bothers my girl
and what bothers my girl always bothers me in the end.

Me: I hear you. I’ll find out what’s up. When is the next
time she’s supposed to go over there? Sunday?

Dray: No. Thx Giving this Thurs. dude. She’s spending it
with her folks.

Me: Copy that.

Dray: Later douchebag.

Me: Later dick-cheese.

Dray: Fuck. You win.

I chuckled and gave a sigh. I tossed my phone to the side
and scrubbed my face with my hands. If it was enough to get Dray involved then
it was high past time for
me
to be involved. It was definitely time for
me to do some sleuthing. Figure some shit out and what was going on with my
girl. I had a busy couple of days up ahead. Trigger and me were supposed to go
scouting around town for a prime location for a new shop, which was a lot
harder than it sounded. We’d already been turned down by two spots because of
the explosion.

The insurance company was supposed to settle with us on
Tuesday before the fucking holiday, and with as much as they’d been dicking
around, we were gonna see what this latest offer was, and if it was shit like
the last two? Well, we weren’t afraid to lawyer up. We just didn’t want to drag
it out any further than we had to and we sure as
hell
didn’t want to
resort to his woman’s money. Ashton had done
way
more than enough
between the club and opening up Soul Fuel with Ev and Red.

I dragged my ass to bed even though my mind was restless as
Hell. Part of staying fit and in prime fighting condition was to get the
requisite amount of sleep. Still, every damned time I closed my eyes I was
assaulted with the vision of the season personified. Red was a fucking goddess
and I wanted so fucking bad to make her mine in every way.