“Let’s go,” I said, slapping Tegen’s bag against Cage’s chest. “Before Tegen starts airing all the club’s dirty laundry in the middle of the bus station.”
Cage grimaced. “How about you drive her back to the club. I think I’d rather walk.”
“Welcome to my world,” I told him, tugging him forward. “We made our beds, Cage. Now, we both get to lie in them.”
Cage frowned at me. “When did you get so fuckin’ smart? What happened to my little sister, always talkin’ about stupid stuff and wearin’ pink shit all the time? I liked her better.”
What happened to her?
She had an affair with a man fourteen years older than her and then made the mistake of falling in love with him.
She killed a woman.
She had to abort her child.
She allowed a man she didn’t love to fall in love with her. A good and decent man who’d deserved a woman ten times better than she was. Then she’d broken his heart.
Shrugging, I gave my brother a sad smile.
“What happened? Cage…life fucking happened.”
Blowing out a breath, Cage glanced up at the ceiling and shook his head.
“Fuckin’ truth, little sister. Fuckin’ truth.”
• • •
Inside the clubhouse, Ripper glanced up from his channel surfing, watching as Cox slowly approached the couch he’d been calling home for the past two days.
“Yo,” he said.
Cox dropped down beside him. “Yo.”
Silence.
“Just say it, dude.” Ripper sighed. “Whatever the fuck it is.”
Clearing his throat, Cox shifted in his seat so he was facing him. “Brother, I’ve kept my mouth shut a long time now, ’bout Nikki, ’bout Danny, and then Hawk told me about the baby, and still I kept it quiet. But seein’ as how all your dirty fuckin’ secrets are becomin’ public knowledge, now I gotta say this shit.”
Great. Where the fuck was Hawk anyway? Knowing how the brother felt about Dorothy, one would have thought he’d have hauled his ass back to Montana by now.
“So spit it the fuck out,” he said, glaring at Cox.
“Come clean to Prez,” Cox said. “And I don’t just mean about you and Danny, I mean, come the fuck clean. Tell him what happened with Nikki, with Danny, tell him you didn’t fuckin’ know about the baby, tell him all of it.”
He wanted to laugh but his split lip was preventing that. “Dude,” he said, shaking his head. “How do you think I turned fuckin’ purple? You think I beat myself half to death?”
Cox blinked. “I thought Cage and you—”
“Yeah,” he interrupted. “Then Prez. Twice.”
Unlike his run-in with Danny’s punch-happy brother, Ripper hadn’t fought back when Deuce had come at him. Actually, he hadn’t really fought back when Cage had pounded on him either. He was bigger than Cage, and a fuck of a lot stronger, but he got why the brother needed to beat on him, so he let him get some of that anger out before tossing him across the room.
But Deuce. Ripper knew he deserved worse than a beating from Deuce.
Especially after he’d spilled everything.
He’d begun with Frankie, told Deuce how he’d tried to kill himself trying to escape the crazy fucker, and the miserable years that had followed.
He told him how he’d been blaming Eva for everything bad that happened. Then he told him it was Eva who’d inadvertently saved his life.
He told him about Danny’s prom night, what had happened at the lake, and the months following. He told Deuce how much he loved her.
He told him about Nikki’s death, that it had been Danny who’d killed her trying to save his life. He told him his reasons for leaving, that it had been all for Danny.
And then he told Deuce about the pregnancy.
He told Deuce everything. And through it all, sitting behind his desk, watching him impassively, Deuce said nothing.
When Ripper finished recounting his fucked-up life, Deuce stood up and slowly crossed the room. Grabbing him by the collar of his T-shirt, Deuce got up in his face.
“What the fuck you want me to say, Ripper? You been fuckin’ my daughter behind my back for how long, I don’t fuckin’ know, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”
“She was legal,” he said quickly.
“Yeah,” Deuce said. “How fuckin’ legal?”
“Legal enough,” Ripper muttered, looking down at his boots.
“Great. Fuckin’ great. Listen, fuckhead, you hurt her again, you do one goddamn thing that makes her even a little bit sad, and I’m gonna beat your fuckin’ ass. You do it a third time and I’m puttin’ you in the ground.”
Startled, Ripper looked up. “You’re cool with us bein’ together?”
“Fuck,” Deuce muttered. “Are you fuckin’ stupid? No, I’m not cool with it, I fuckin’ hate it, straight up, but what am I am gonna do about it? Kick you the fuck out? Took you in when you were nothin’ but a cocky-ass teenager who wanted to party more than he wanted to work, always gettin’ into trouble ’cause your whorin’ ass liked your women dirty and dirty women meant dirty business. And then you were a depressed, drunken, miserable shit after what happened with Frankie…but fuck, brother, you been with me for eighteen loyal years now and that means you’re family.”
Family. Jesus, he was about to break the fuck down in front of his prez.
“I love her,” Ripper said quietly.
Under-fucking-statement.
Yeah, he loved Danny, but that wasn’t even the half of it. She’d changed him in ways not even he could comprehend.
No longer angry, he’d slowly become a softer version of himself.
The old him, before Frankie, but even more so.
“Christ,” Deuce said. “I need a smoke. This shit is worse than gettin’ shot. First Z, now you.”
Ripper flinched. ZZ.
“I love her,” Ripper repeated, this time more forcefully. “And I ain’t gonna hurt her.”
Deuce’s nostrils flared. “You mean you ain’t gonna hurt her again. ’Cause you sure as fuck did a number on her already. And I’m thinkin’ that an asshole like you isn’t gonna be able to make good on that.”
“I will. If she’ll let me.”
Deuce’s hold on him tightened. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Means if she lets me take her back to my bed, and she’s on the back of my bike, I ain’t never gonna let her outta my sight ever again.”
Deuce’s eyes narrowed.
Huh. Maybe mentioning Danny being in his bed wasn’t the best thing to say to her father.
“You gonna own that shit?”
Ripper’s eyes went wide. Was Deuce actually asking him if he’d marry Danny?
Marry? Danny?
Him?
“Yeah,” Ripper rasped. “Fuck yeah, I’m gonna own that shit.”
“Which means you’re patchin’ back in, Sergeant.”
He nearly choked on his surprise. Not only was Deuce telling him he could marry Danny, but he wanted him back as his right-hand man.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“And ZZ?”
Ripper swallowed. That was going to be a hard one.
“Gonna try and make good on that too.”
And he would, he’d do everything he could to fix what he’d fucked up. If the brother ever came back.
“Good,” Deuce growled. “Now, you fuckin’ ready?”
Yeah. He loved getting his ass kicked. It was a great fucking time.
“Yeah, Prez, I’m ready. You do what you gotta do.”
Deuce stared at him.
“Goddamn Preacher,” Deuce muttered, breaking the silence, shaking his head. “Goddamn that motherfucker.”
Ripper didn’t have a clue what Preacher had to do with any of this, but he soon stopped wondering because Deuce had begun beating the ever-loving shit out of him. Twice. Then left him bleeding on the office floor while he stormed off, yelling for Eva. It had t
aken Ripper nearly three hours just to drag himself out of the office and onto this very couch. A couch he hadn’t left in two days. Aside from several broken fingers and some pretty nasty swelling all over his body, he was fairly certain he had a couple of cracked ribs and a mild concussion, all courtesy of Deuce’s steel-toed shit-kickers.
But all that weight he’d been carrying around, especially from the past three years, was gone.
Boom. Fucking gone.
And he wanted Danny back.
Fuck that, he was getting Danny back.
Cox stared at him. “Really? Damn.”
Ripper scowled. “Did you really think I’d let Cage beat the fuck outta me?”
Cox grinned. “Little fucker is almost as big as the big fucker.”
“Fuck that. Brother is more than ten years younger than me. I gotta rep to hold up.”
Laughing, Cox slapped him on the back. “You stayin’ this time, right? You gonna go claim that bitch of yours and patch back in?”
He was about to answer when the club’s front door banged open and a skinny redhead stormed inside. Cage came in next, looking a mixture of miserable and frightened. Danny was last, scowling as she dragged in two large floral bags.
“Holy shit,” Cox breathed. “Either we’ve been invaded by hippies or that’s…Tegen.”
Since there weren’t any other skinny redheads that Cage and Danny had been sent to collect, it had to be Tegen. But it sure as fuck didn’t look like the four-eyed, frizzy-haired, mouthy little shit he remembered her as.
“For the last time, Danny, I am not staying at your fucking house!” Tegen yelled as she disappeared inside the kitchen.
Ripper’s brow lifted. Okay. So she was still a mouthy little shit.
Blowing out a breath, Cage glanced their way, his eyes wide and pleading. “Help,” he whispered.
Cox snorted. “Fuck that. I got enough crazy bitches to deal with. Between Kami and Mary Catherine hittin’ me up for everything under the sun and, fuck me, Anna always askin’ for more money…”
Ripper stopped listening. Danny had given up on dragging Tegen’s luggage through the room and was now standing very still, watching him. Everything she was thinking, feeling, wanting, was showing plain as day on her face.
Are you going to leave?
His gaze never once left those beautiful blue eyes.
No.
Really?
Yeah, baby, really.
Why not?
He glanced down at himself. Can’t exactly get off the couch, can I?
He watched as she pressed her lips together, fighting a smile.
Fuuuuuck. He wanted to go to her. Touch her, smell her, fucking hold her right here in the middle of the club, in front of her brother, in front of Cox, in front of the whole fucking world. Then he wanted to take her to bed, fuck her half to death, fuck her some more, do some sleeping, fuck her some more.
Fuck, he had to adjust his cock.
Watching him, Danny’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink, whether she was flushed from arousal or embarrassed, either way it was a good sign.
Speaking of good signs, the sight of her nipples hardening under her white ribbed tank was ranking pretty high on his list.
Fuck it. He had to do something. He wanted her back in his bed. Tonight. Right now.
I want you, beautiful girl.
She sucked her bottom lip inside her mouth and bit down. For how long?
Holding her gaze with his, For fuckin’ ever.
“Oh my god, seriously?”
Tegen stood just outside the kitchen, a beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other, her narrowed gaze alternating between Danny and him.
She flashed Danny a nasty grin he didn’t much appreciate. “You and Ripper, huh? What happened to ZZ? You get sick of him?”
Danny, who’d gone stiff, turned to glare at Tegen. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about.”
Tegen kept grinning. “Really? So you two weren’t just eye-fucking each other?”
“Tegen,” Danny said slowly, her teeth locked. “I know you’re hurting but—”
“Oh, shut up,” Tegen scoffed. “You know as well as I do these assholes can’t keep it in their pants. And he’s one of the worst. You know he fucked Kami back in the day, right? Tag-teamed her with Cox. He probably banged Eva too. Hope you plan on getting tested regularly.”
“I’m gonna knock her out,” Cox said.
Although Ripper resented being accused of fucking Eva, and was pissed the little bitch had brought up Kami, as well as implying that he had diseases, he didn’t say anything. Mainly because Tegen was right. He had been one of the worst. But Danny already knew that. And as far as female opinion went when it came to him, the only one he cared about was ready to throw down with Tegen for talking shit. She might not be speaking to him but she sure as shit still cared. That was a good sign. Now he just had to get her talking again.
“Don’t you need to go see your mom?” Cage growled.
Tegen’s expression turned ice cold. “Fucker,” she spat, “I thought I told you that you do not get to speak to me.”
Surprised, Ripper glanced over at Cage and, damn, the dude looked half crazed, a little bit confused, a whole lot angry, maybe a touch homicidal, and yeah, there was definitely a unhealthy amount of battle lust raging through him.
What the fuck was going on?
“Stop your bullshit,” Cage seethed, his fists clenching.
Tegen let out a loud, humorless laugh. “Why? What are you going to do, Cage?” She shook her head, smirking. “Nothing. You’re going to do nothing because you’re full of shit. In fact, you are shit. A big fat pile of steaming biker shit.”
Ripper and Cox looked at each other. Damn.
“Brother’s gonna blow,” Cox whispered.
Blow a load, maybe. Brother was about to tackle Tegen caveman-style and fuck her right in front of anyone.
“Naw, dude,” he whispered back. “Look at him, he’s hard up for that bitch. Who the fuck knew he’d been feelin’ Tegen all this time?”
Yeah, who knew? And really, who cared?
Not him.
This fucking club was full of secrets and it was getting straight up exhausting.
“Tegen.”
Everyone turned to look at Deuce.
“You’re gonna reel this bullshit in right the fuck now and go see your mother. I ain’t payin’ for that apartment in Cali so you can come home and act like an asshole, shittin’ on everyone just ’cause you fuckin’ feel like it. You feel me?”
Tegen snorted. “Yeah,” she said. “Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. I can’t wait to go hang out with my comatose mother. My fucking idiotic, comatose mother who got herself shot because she was stupid enough to fall for one of you assholes. Hopefully she’ll die, be put out of her misery, and I won’t have to keep watching her throw her entire life away for a man who doesn’t give two fucks about her.”
Everyone was openmouthed staring at Tegen who, even after her rant, was casually taking a bite of her sandwich.
“That’s right, fuckers,” she said around a mouthful of sandwich. “I said it.” Then spinning on her heel, she headed for the hallway.
Deuce started after her but Cage intercepted him. “This is my fault,” he said, pushing his father backward. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Motherfuck,” Deuce muttered, staring after him. “Ten bucks says he fucked that mouthy little asshole. Motherfuckin’ little fuck can’t keep it in his pants for shit. Cocksucker would fuck a hole in the wall. Probably has.”
“Prez,” Cox called out, laughing. “You remember his prom, him never comin’ home and we went lookin’ for him. Found him in the girls’ bathroom at the school, pants around his ankles, face in the toilet.”
Ripper couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing. That had been some funny shit.
“Fuck me,” he said. “That shit was straight up awesome.”
“It was disgusting,” Danny interjected, her eyes on
him. “And embarrassing. You know he had three dates that night, right?” She shook her head. “Disgusting.”
“You’re all disgusting,” Deuce muttered, his accusing stare locked on Ripper.
Ignoring him, Ripper stared at Danny, not knowing what the fuck to say but thrilled she’d spoken to him. She held his gaze, her muddled feelings plain as day. She still thought he was going to leave. She didn’t trust him. Not only that, she didn’t trust herself. She felt that her love for him was clouding her judgment.
So he tried to convey how determined he was to make it up to her. That he’d wait until she was ready. He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to straight up jump her, but he would wait. They could go as slow as she needed and he would fix this shit between them and try his damnedest never, ever to fuck up again.
Swallowing hard, she covered her mouth with the back of her hand and turned away from him. Deuce caught the slight movement, narrowed his eyes in concern, then turned to him and straight up glared.
“Good times,” Cox said, looking from Deuce to him and back to Deuce. “Always good fuckin’ times at Horsemen High.”
“Yo,” Tap called out, walking into the room. “Jase called. D’s awake.”
“Fuck,” Deuce breathed, running his hands through his hair. “Finally, some good fuckin’ news.”
“Yeah,” Tap said. “One problem.”
“What?”
“She don’t remember jack shit.”
“So?” Cox said. “Who’d wanna remember gettin’ shot in the head? I wouldn’t.”
“Idiot,” Tap muttered. “She doesn’t remember anything. Anyone. Nothin’. Not even her fuckin’ name.”
“She’s alive,” Deuce said, already heading for the hallway, most likely to grab Tegen. “Let’s focus on that.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“It’s very rare that an injury this severe doesn’t result in some kind of permanent damage. And that’s something that can take months or even years to determine the full extent of.”
“Danny!” Ivy squealed, bouncing in the waiting room chair beside me, waving my cell phone around in the air. “I beat level thirteen!”
“Shh,” I whispered, trying to hear what the doctor was saying to Jase.
“Age is also a factor,” he continued. “Individuals in their teens and twenties have a tendency to recover more so than a woman in her thirties.”