...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club (25 page)

Read ...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club Online

Authors: Debra Kayn

Tags: #may december romance, #crime, #carnival, #Older man younger woman, #mob, #romantic suspense, #organized crime, #erotic bikers, #action and adventure, #biker series, #outlaw motorcycle club, #biker gang, #Motorcycle Club romance, #montana, #Russians

Richard Murphy lifted his chin. "You'll be okay from now on, Bree. I made sure of that this time. You can stay with Battery. Hold on to him tight, baby. Love him. Let him love you."

Her legs shook and if not for Battery's hand on her, she would've fallen to her knees. She nodded.

"Be happy, daughter." Richard smiled, and the absolute resignation of his fate in his eyes settled on him.

She covered her mouth and straightened her fingers toward him, blowing a kiss. Unable to say the words. Unable to tell him a lifetime of wishes, fears, and thoughts.

Richard dipped his chin, accepting the affection the only way he could. Then, he looked at Battery and said, "Thank you, my friend."

With his back straight, her dad turned around and limped away from her. She cried out wanting him to stop.

"Daddy, don't walk away from me," she whispered, unsure if she even made a sound.

He kept limping away.

He was leaving her, and she couldn't stop him.

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she wheezed, drawing air into her seized chest. Battery's arm came around her waist, holding her up, dragging her back toward the house. She stared in horror at the Russian men walking forward, getting closer to her father.

Her dad stumbled and fell. She screamed and kicked out against Battery holding her, trying to get to her father.

"Get up," she whispered.

Why wasn't he moving?

"Daddy!"

He wasn't getting back up.

"No. no, no," she whispered, clawing at Battery's arm holding her steady. "Don't leave me."

The men picked her dad up under his arms and dragged him to the car. She sagged over Battery's arm, gut wrenching sobs tearing her body in two. The realization of what her father had done screamed in refusal in her head.

The car doors shut, echoing in her head over her screams. The vehicle backed up, turned, and drove away. She lost all strength in her legs and Battery picked her up and carried her into the house.

Her father left her to save her.

He was never coming back.

He was dead.

Dead.

Chapter Thirty Seven

B
ree sat in front of Battery on the dock with her toes dipped in the water. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to his chest and stared out at the water. The last twenty-four hours a nightmare that would stick with both of them forever.

"How do I go on living knowing he died to save me?" Bree crossed her arms over his arms as if to hold in all her feelings that were coming out. "I can't even wrap my head around the sacrifices and depth you and my dad went to make sure I received a life away from the Russians."

"A good man will sacrifice everything for his family, carny-girl. Accept it, heal, and go on the way Richard would want you to."

"I don't think I can." She leaned her head back against the front of his shoulder. "He barely knew me."

"He knew you." He kissed the top of her head.

She tilted her head and looked up over her shoulder at him. "Through you?"

He nodded.

"How often did you see him over the years after he went up onto the mountain?" asked Bree.

He understood she needed to talk, but he'd hidden his visits, his contact, his guardianship over Bree practically his whole life. She wasn't the only one who struggled to understand the changes that came from Richard walking right to Boykov and his men.

"Once a month for nineteen years." He moistened his lips. "I took supplies up to him and would share everything I knew about how you were doing. It was enough. Richard bolstered through the days living off of any news I had about you, knowing you were safe. It's what made it possible for him to live a life of seclusion."

She turned back around. "I didn't even know my father, and yet when he was standing in front of me, none of that mattered. I knew he was my dad. It hurts."

"Yeah." He rocked her side to side, remembering what seemed like a lifetime ago of taking her to the dock to get her to calm down and sleep. "The pain will lessen over time, and you'll see that everything he had done was out of love. His sacrifices meant you lived."

"When will it stop hurting?"

He stared down at her toes, now wiggling in the water. "When you have your own child and realize that you would do anything, even give up your own life, to make sure she or he will remain happy."

She hummed in consideration. He looked at the woman who stepped over society's boundaries, never gave up on him, and planted herself so fucking deep into his life he understood the level of sacrifices Richard made and the reasons why. To anyone else, his relationship and love for Bree spanned an area that was inconceivable.

But, he understood.

Bree understood.

That's all that fucking mattered.

"I need to look for the good things happening. It's what my dad had done." Bree scooted sideways to look at him. "It's nice to be outside again, at the pond, and with you."

He smiled tenderly, hurting more because it was so like Bree to hide the pain and show him the way to heal despite her age and lack of experience. "Fake it until you make it?"

"...or something." She shrugged. "You know what I want to do?"

He grunted. It wouldn't matter because anything Bree wanted, he'd make sure she got it.

"Let's go for a ride." She kissed him softly.

"You want to go into town?" He shook his head. "I'm not feeling it."

"No, let's hit the interstate and outrun everything happening to us for an hour and go back to concentrating on us," she said.

"Ride with purpose." He cupped her cheek.

She pressed against his hand and smiled. "Definitely a purpose."

He kissed her softly, pushed to his feet, taking her with him. Looping his arm over her shoulders, he tugged her close. Despite the heaviness in the air, the sadness beating in him, Richard had given him a gift. Another day and another night with Bree.

The last several weeks, he never thought he'd be walking out of the situation alive. While not afraid to die, he feared leaving Bree to live the rest of her life alone. Sure, she had the club, but she protected herself from growing close to others. Always afraid to feel too deeply in case she had to leave, she kept her needs and wants to herself, afraid if others formed an attachment or opinion about her, they'd abandon her. That was something she'd live with for the rest of her life thanks to growing up in the foster care system, and he understood and accepted the responsibility of making sure he never unnecessarily disrupted the trust she'd placed on him.

What they had was a once in a lifetime chance at love and happiness, and he was going to take it, make it, and be with her every step of the way.

Swiss walked out of the front door of the house, spotted them, and lifted his chin. "Where are you two going?"

"Bree wants a ride." Battery stopped at his Harley and passed the helmet to Bree.

Bree worked the chin strap and said, "It's necessary."

Swiss held up his hands. "You don't hear me asking."

"We'll be back before dark." Battery sat his bike.

Bree climbed behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist and grabbed his belt. He started the bike and headed out. Glad the past couple of months hadn't left its scars on her and Bree wanted to enjoy the outdoors again, he headed toward the interstate.

He could now plan his future with Bree.

Monday morning, he'd offer to buy Pine Bar and Grill and make it worth Patty and John's time to leave Haugan. He had no room in the territory for those he couldn't trust and the moment the owners of the bar mentioned where Boykov could find Bree; they were no longer welcome in his territory.

If he had his way, he'd burn the bar down. He had no use for bad memories and the constant reminder to Bree of what all she'd lost.

He checked his side mirror and turned onto the on-ramp. Accelerating, he entered the interstate at seventy-five miles an hour. As far as he could look ahead and the view behind him, he rode the open road alone with Bree.

She laid her head on the back of his shoulder. Snug against his back, her legs wrapped around his hips, she eased the tension riddling his body, and he sought her comfort. He wouldn't take her far. She'd barely slept last night.

Fifteen minutes later, he reached the top of Lookout Pass on the Montana/Idaho border. He took the view-turnoff exit and parked his bike against the guardrail. At the top, the view of the Bitterroot Mountains laid before him in an array of green dotted with the brown of the Tamarack trees.

He cut off the engine. "Need to walk it off?

"Yeah." She slid off the bike and rubbed her ass.

He got off the Harley and sat sideways on the seat. Hooking her wrist, he pulled her between his spread legs and took over rubbing the numbness out of her backside. She laid her arms over his shoulders and her fingers played with the back of his hair.

"This is nice," she said. "I missed being with you, just doing our own thing."

"Yeah?" He slowed his massage and cupped her ass.

She peered over his shoulder and tilted her head. Caught in the solemn concentration and the way her eyes showed her thinking, he took the time to let her be. When she was ready, she'd talk.

A car turned around in the gravel patch off the interstate. He watched them glance over at him and keep going. It'd take a while for him not to react every time someone came around Bree. His need to protect her never went away, danger or no danger.

"Which mountain range did he stay on?" asked Bree.

He looked at her face. She worked her lips in concentration and scanned the hills behind him. He understood what she asked and moved her away from his bike, grabbed her hand, and led her over to the edge in front of the guardrail. He pointed northeast.

"Look for the peak with the bald patch on the right side." He left his hand pointing in the general direction.

"I found it."

"Now, go left two peaks to the shorter mountain range." He brought his hand back to her shoulder. "Your dad lived on that one in an abandoned mining cabin. From the inside, it was solid. From the outside, it looked like a good stiff wind or snow storm would knock it down."

She stared straight ahead and exhaled. "I don't want to see where he had to live alone for so many years."

"You don't have to." He closed his eyes an extra beat.

He'd never take her to the cabin even if she wanted to go, because after he had taken Bree in the house after the Russians took her dad away, she'd cried herself to sleep. While Swiss watched over her, he rode after the Russians with Rod and found them five miles from his house off a beaten road, digging a hole to get rid of Richard. He'd known they couldn't go far with a dead man in the backseat.

It only took four bullets from his pistol, and he finally ended his and Bree's nightmare with the Russians. Bree could live free and without fear. And, he received retribution for Richard's death.

After giving Rod instructions on how to reach the cabin, his V.P., LeWorth, Sanders, and Choke took Bree's father and the four dead men up the mountain. Richard was buried in front of the cabin he'd called home for Bree's whole life.

While the Russians were thrown out into the woods. By winter, the wild animals would erase most of their bodies. The police, if someone stumbled upon what was left, would never be able to identify them.

"But, I'd like to know what mountain so I can look up there once in a while and remember what my father had done for me," she whispered. "Do you think that's okay?"

He squeezed her shoulders, leaned his head down and kissed her temple. "It's okay."

"I can see that mountain from the house?"

"Yeah. I can show you when we get home." He turned her around, tilted her chin, and kissed her lips. "What do you say we head back and make an early night of it."

"No club?" She raised her brows.

He shook his head and got a smile out of her. A tiny smile, but he'd take it.

Epilogue

O
ne year later —

Little Duke Junior sucked on his hand against Battery's shoulder on the way to Raelyn's car in the driveway of the house. Bree carried an armload of gift bags filled with supplies for the baby she'd bought yesterday. At six months old, Junior was filling out fast and had outgrown most of his outfits from the baby shower Bree had given Raelyn before his birth.

"I appreciate you both watching him for me this evening." Raelyn opened the trunk of her SUV.

Bree put the bags inside and took the diaper bag from Raelyn's shoulder and added it to the car. "We love having him. Drop him by anytime you need someone to watch him while you work."

"My list of babysitters keeps growing." Raelyn smiled up at the baby. "Even Jana put her name down for Saturdays."

Bree lifted her brows. Her distaste for the woman had eased since Sander moved Jana into his house.

"Ronacks is your family." Battery lowered the baby to his chest and passed him off to Raelyn. "I put Duke's part of this month's money from the club in the bag."

Raelyn mouthed 'thank you'.

Bree stepped over and put her arm around Battery's back. "How is business going?"

Ronacks Motorcycle Club bought Pine Bar and Grill after Bree's father gave his life to keep her safe. She had a feeling Battery persuaded the owners of the bar to leave Montana for good because Battery wanted nothing to do with the bar until she'd convinced him to let Raelyn open the place back up again and employ club members to help her stay on her feet. In return, she'd asked the women to help babysit Dukie to keep him out of the bar during working hours. She wasn't comfortable with a baby in an adult establishment, no matter how much Raelyn missed him while she was working.

"Business is really good, thanks to the club." Raelyn finished fastening the baby in the car seat and closed the back door. "Battery's suggestions have helped the initial startup and more people are making it their regular place to hang out."

"Oh?" She glanced up at Battery. "What changes?"

"We're serving a late breakfast." Raelyn swiped the hair out of her face. "Single men seem to appreciate having a comfortable place to start the day and return at night for their beer."

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