Loving Me, Trusting You (23 page)

“I don't want to take the interstate,” Kimmi says, and I hope to hell she's on a private channel. “There's a group out here that I don't trust. If Bested really wants to stir up shit and get everyone up in arms about us, this is the place to do it.
Seventy-seven Brothers.
You heard of them?”

“Nope.” This from Beck.

“Well, the last time we passed down that interstate, we ran into them. It was a long time ago, before Gaine was even a part of Triple M, but they tried to start shit with us. They have a pretty strict code and anyone who falls outside of that is fair game. It would not surprise me if they were forming against us. They have a point to prove now. This has gone way past Mireya and Tray. This is about principle now, and if there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that principle means everything to some people.” I wait for Mireya to launch into a furious attack on Kimmi, but there's nothing but silence. She's not on the channel. Shit. She's already pissed about my lying to her. If she finds out about this, there's going to be no coming back from it.

“Let's lie low and try to keep out of their hair then,” Austin says as he drifts towards one of the upcoming exits. “If we can get everyone safely to St. Marlin's then I'll be tickled fuckin' pink. A few days to breathe would be nice, and I don't think a visit to the beach would hurt anyone neither.” He tries to make light of the situation, and I hear him chuckle. “I sure would love to see Amy in a swimsuit, I might add.”

“Saw it last night, boss, and it was mighty fine. Girl has got a body.” Beck opens his damn mouth and inserts his foot. I smile, too, but I know it doesn't reach my eyes. I don't feel it deep down. This expression is strictly on my face. I think of the girl lying in the grass back there and I wonder what they did to her and how I'm ever going to be able to make that up in life. And then there's Mireya … Do I tell her? I think about that for a second, but the answer is obvious: no. If she wants to hate me for lying to her, then so be it. I can't watch her be dealt another blow by these motherfuckers. I just need them to go the fuck away and leave us alone. Even if it takes another ten years, I'm sure I can get her to forgive me. I
know
I can.

I keep my eyes focused on the pavement in front of me, zoning into myself and letting my motorcycle warm me up from within. When all hell's broke loose and you got no one to turn to, your ride is there for you. Stupid as that sounds. It'll hold you up when you're down and take you places you never thought you'd go. If I could, I'd ride for days straight, stop only to refuel. Instead, I try to think of Mireya's lips on mine, her hands in my hair. It's going to be a long time before I ever get the pleasure of holding her in my arms again. One step forward, two steps back, right?

We ride straight on, the silence of the group heavy around us. It's like there's a climax building that we can all feel, a crescendo that's coming too fast. We don't have time to think, just to react. That's life, I suppose. It doesn't give you warnings, and it refuses to wait its turn. There ain't nothing I can do about that except go along for the ride.

We move together like a flock of birds, a perfect unit, burning up highways and tucking miles under our belt like they mean nothing. When the sun rises in the sky, we don't stop, we continue underneath its boiling gaze for as long as we can, moving as fast as I've ever seen. The longer I sit there, the more time I have to think. The more I keep going back to Mireya's face, to those chains, to her expression after I grabbed her.

She's done with this, I know she is. She's ready to move on. God, I can fucking feel it! It's driving me nuts. How can I expect her to accept me, to take the next step together when she's chained to the past? With Amy in the picture and Austin tied up in heartstrings, I thought I was good to go, that the last obstacle to her heart was gone. I was wrong. This is it. She can't rest until this crap is done and buried.

“Where we at, Pres?” Beck asks after awhile. The noise is so unexpected that I swerve a bit and catch sight of Mireya moving up beside me. She looks so perfect on the back of that ride, even if it is a bit rickety for my tastes. Her body is round and smooth, bent over like a race car driver. Even with Christy clinging to her for dear life, she looks graceful and strong, like a predator hunting prey. There's power there, and confidence. All of that paired with an ass I could stare at forever. It's almost too much. I force my eyes back to the road, but I know my cock is rock solid, waiting for her, always waiting.

“Just about there,” he replies. “I'd say we've got less than an hour until we hit the coast.”

“And just enough daylight to hit the beach,” Kimmi adds with a smile in her voice.

“I want to talk to you all when we get there,” Mireya says, and I'm glad to hear she's on the channel now. “I've got something to say if that's alright.” She pauses. “If my opinion even matters.”

“Of course it does,” Austin responds automatically, but I doubt she's convinced. “If y'all have something to say, feel free. Hell, even if you don't got something to say, tell me, so I know you're in. This isn't going to work without your support. It's damn near impossible to go it alone.” His voice trails off, and I know he's thinking of the massive burden he's just swallowed. It's going to be tough, but I know he can do it. “So, sugar, you tell us whatever you want and we'll listen.”

“Good,” Mireya says, and I can hear the frown in her voice. “Because you're not going to like it.”

Eating the wind nourishes the soul, and it gives you plenty of time to think.

By the time I get to the hotel in St. Marlin's, I know exactly what it is that I'm going to do. I just hope everyone else is behind me. If they're not, then fuck 'em. I am tired of this crap, tired of running from my memories, already sick to death of the effect it's having on Triple M. I look down at the MMM tat that rests in the crook of my elbow and take a deep breath. Gaine's not going to like my plan, that's for fucking sure, but he's going to deal with it. I'm not going to give him a choice. Despite what he might think, I'm capable of making my own decisions.

I grab my bag and watch as Christy climbs off. If this all works out, and I make it through this shit okay, I'll be a better sponsor in the future.
Lo siento,
Christy, I think as I watch her eyes take in yet another new space, a different climate. I'm sure there are all sorts of things going through her head, enough to fill a novel twice the size of Amy's smut rag.
Which you loved, you dirty slut. Don't deny it.
I ignore my inner voice and toss my bag over my shoulder, letting it hang heavy against my spine. Considering it's all I own in this world, it doesn't seem so bad. When you travel this much, you learn to appreciate non-material things instead. I collect sights instead of items, sunsets and vistas, towering high-rises and quiet, suburban streets. Everything has its magic hidden somewhere. The only thing I give a shit about is my bike, and that's more like a friend or family member instead of an object. I throw up a silent prayer for my Triumph Bonneville and pretends that it's not lying trashed on the side of the road somewhere. It deserved better than that.

“What have you got with you?” I ask the girl, surprising her. She looks up at me, blue eyes wide and untainted. Whatever Bested by Crows did to her, they didn't rape her. If they had, I could tell. They barely roughed her up. Not enough time, maybe? Given the opportunity, I know they would've done much, much worse.

Christy picks up her bag, one of three that she had shoved in her trunk. Beck picked one at random and tossed it onto his bike. I never thought to ask if she had all the essentials.

“Nostalgic stuff mostly,” she replies, voice soft and tentative, almost like she's afraid to speak to me. “My clothes got left behind. I've been borrowing Amy's.” I look her up and down before sighing. She's wearing one of Beck's extra jackets with full patches. Kind of pisses me off, but what can I do about it? It's not like I have a bunch of extras lying around, and without the time to get her a new one, she'll have to make do. Can't make the bitch ride in floral print skirts, now can I?

“I've got some extra leather pants in my bag, and a pair of boots.” I give her skinny, blonde ass a once-over. She's half the size I am, so they might be a little big, but they fit me like a second skin, so I guess it's alright.

Christy smiles at me as I turn away and start towards the entrance. Gaine's already waiting inside, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. When I step in the door, he opens them and looks at me, doing his best to pull up a smile that I don't return.

“When I said I don't like lies, I meant it.” I keep walking and ignore the sound of him sighing behind me. His footsteps move across the carpet and fall into step with mine, keeping Christy at my heels.

“I didn't mean to lie to you, Mireya. It's just … I don't want you to deal with more than you have to. It's nothin' against you, babe. I know you can take care of your own shit.” I roll my eyes.

“Then why don't you let me prove it?”

Gaine grabs me by the shoulders and spins me to face him. His face is dead serious right now, dark brows crinkled, brown eyes shining. His hair falls into his face as he runs his tongue across his lower lip.

“Because you don't need to. Because I've already seen what you can do. When you're tired or stressed or weary or you need help, it's okay to ask, Mireya. I would. It's not weakness to rely on someone you trust.”

“But I don't trust you,” I tell him, and his face falls. “Why should I, when you have no issue lying to me?” I stare him down hard.

“Mireya, some things are better left in the dark, but if you really want to know … ” Gaine sighs and shakes his head, tightening his fingers ever so slightly on my shoulders. “I'll tell you. After you get your meeting, let's go to the room and we can talk about it.” He releases me and moves away, towards the elevator.

I motion for Christy to follow after and make sure she's settled in with Amy before I move into the adjoining suite and close the door. Everyone's already waiting for me.

I look at them all, study their faces and try to memorize them. This is going to rip me to pieces, but I have to do it. This is the only way. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them, my resolve is solid. There's no going back.

“I know we have a lot of crap to deal with right now, a lot of changes to get used to, but none of that can be done until I deal with the mess I made. If I hadn't killed Tray, none of this would be happening.” I forge on before anyone can jump in and feed me bullshit about how that's not true, about how all of this would've come to pass some way or another. That's not true at all, and I know it. I don't want to hear anymore lies. If I'd felt deep down and listened to myself, left Tray alive, unconscious on the floor of that room, we'd be sitting here talking about stupid shit like Vice Presidents and Road Captains. As of now, all the focus is on this, on me. “I wanted Tray to suffer, and frankly, I'm glad that he's dead. It's a relief knowing that he's not out in the world anymore, but … ” I trail off and turn away, putting my hands on my hips and moving towards the windows. Outside, in the distance, I can see the blue glimmer of the ocean. It brings a smile to my lips that I quickly wipe away. I can't deal with that right now. At this moment in time, I have one thing on my mind and nothing else is going to happen until I can figure it out. “I wish I didn't have his blood on my hands.” I wait for someone to say something in response to that, but this time, they're all quiet. “I thought I wanted to kill the others, but I just … don't. I don't want to be like them, to sink to their level. I've dealt with enough crap in my life. I just want to move on.” I turn back to face the group, to look at Kimmi's wrinkled brow and pursed lips, Austin's deep frown, and Beck's sad smile. I do my best to avoid Gaine's eyes. “But I can't, not with them chasing us from one end of the country to the other. I don't want a hundred other gangs pulled into the mix, and I sure as shit don't want Triple M to be made an example of. So. I'm going to get rid of them for you.”

“Okay,” Kimmi begins, sounding confused. “So, what, you're going to hunt them down and shoot them? Is that what this is about? I hate to say it, sister, but that was my plan all along. As soon as we can, we take them out, and we don't look back. That's just the way it's going to have to be.” I let her finish, smiling as I listen to her words.

“Not exactly. Actually, I'm going to leave for a little while.”

Gaine stands up when he hears this, but I don't give him a chance to protest. I'm sure he'll try later, but it doesn't matter. I can make my own decisions, and I've made this one. This is the only way I can feel satisfied with the outcome.

“I'm going to go leave, and I'm going to make sure they know it. When I'm gone, they'll back off. I know they will. They might chase me, but I'm not worried about it.”

“This is bullshit,” Gaine says, moving forward. His black shirt is stretched taut across his body, highlighting his rapid breaths and his quivering muscles. He's pissed. And panicked.

“This is my choice, Gaine,” I tell him and watch as it dawns on him that there is
nothing
he can do to stop me. If I want to leave, I have every right to do so. What I don't expect is the way my chest opens up inside, how I feel like I'm falling and I can't stop the descent.