Authors: Sarah Thorn
“Goodbye,
Buck,
” I said.
“Goodbye, Tara.” He sighed and gave me a push toward the door.
Now that he wasn’t holding me, I felt something missing. I wanted to run back into his arms and just run away.
An overpowering
thought started running through my head; I thought this would be the last time I would see him.
I turned to look at him while I walked out the door. He smiled at me. It wasn’t his
regular
smile; it felt like he trying to say ‘goodbye and thanks for the
memories.'
I steeled
myself
and rode home. I could do little to hide my tears anymore, and they flowed freely.
6.
I tried to take my mind off the events that were unfolding. I wanted to get on my motorcycle and join in on the chaos that was probably ensuing. Then I would see my mother, lying in bed, barely able to move.
I knew where I
was needed,
and it wasn’t in a
warzone
. Buck could handle himself; I just had to stay
positive
. I waited by the phone, expecting a phone call at any moment; one that would never come.
“You look nervous, Tara,” my mother said.
“
There’s a lot going
on right now,” I replied.
“What’s keeping you inside? You used to like going for rides when you were like this, before. Is it something that Buck did?”
I wondered if I should tell her the truth.
“No, momma, it’s nothing. Just get back to sleep,” I said in a vain attempt at assuaging her curiosity.
“I’m not stupid, Tara. You could just tell me that Buck is
off
doing something crazy, like beating up a rival gang.”
I wondered how she knew, and my open mouth and gasps did nothing but prove her point.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“You know I was your father’s wife,” she said, “There’s a reason there weren’t any other motorcycle clubs around when you were growing up. And, I was there for most of them. Why aren’t you with Buck right now?”
“He sent me home, he didn’t want me there,” I said honestly.
“He didn’t want you there because he couldn’t stand the possibility of you getting’ hurt, Tara.”
I knew what she was saying was the truth. Buck
really
did love
me,
and I just seemed to slap him in the face every time he showed it.
“
I gotta
go, Momma,” I said as I ran to the closet and threw on my jacket.
“Take the shotgun with you,” she said, “I won’t need it.”
I did as I
was told
, and lumbered out with the
shotgun
in tow. My heart raced as I knew that was I had planned on doing was incredibly crazy. I also was scared of what Buck would do if we
actually
survived this.
I rode as fast as I could; I didn’t
really
know where. But, the place that was most famous for settling disputes was the old quarry. I wondered what I would do when I got there. Sometimes it’s best
not to know
.
7.
I was still half a mile
out,
and I could hear engines in the distance. The roaring thunder of motorcycles gathered in mass. It was impossible to make that sound any other way.
Rounding the corner, I saw Buck and the gang standing in a stalemate on the north side, while Connor and his gang were lined up on the south side.
I
could see
the two men yelling at each other, but couldn’t make out what they were saying over all the noise.
I cut a path through the bikers, heading straight for Buck, coming to a screeching halt just in front of him.
He looked at me with rage.
“What the hell are you doing here,” he shouted.
“Why the hell wouldn’t I be here,” I shouted in response.
“Because I need to know you’ll be okay, get the hell home, now!”
“I’m not leaving your side, not until this is all through,” I said.
I took my place next to him, lifting the shotgun under my arm. Connor looked over at the two of us and laughed.
“I guess you guys
really
do
love each other,” he said.
I looked up at Buck
who
didn’t change his expression in the slightest.
“I won’t ever leave my man,” I shouted.
Buck leaned over and pulled me in for a hug. I forgot how strong he
was;
it felt like he would break me in half with the force of it. I didn’t want him to stop, and I don’t think he wanted to either.
“Buck, I thought you loved me,” I heard a screeching woman’s voice say.
Looking over, I saw that Gracie had decided to come. I wanted to put her in her place, but I didn’t
want
to be the person pulling the trigger first.
“Gracie, you better crawl back into whatever hole you just crawled out of,” I shouted, only for Buck to throw his hand
over
my mouth.
“I can speak for myself, Tara,” he said.
He took a
couple of
steps forward. The lights of the other cycles were near
blinding,
and I couldn’t make out anyone’s face behind Connor and Gracie.
“Gracie, you know what we did. We weren’t
nothin’
more than a good afternoon. Just tell your brother you’re
done,
and this whole feud can come to an end.”
Gracie started laughing.
“You think we were just some afternoon fun? I thought we were something more than that. My brother is going to kick your ass,” she said.
“Connor, can you control that woman? I don’t think she speaks for you,” Buck said.
Connor rubbed his forehead and clenched his teeth.
“Gracie, shut the hell up. We’re
tryin’
to hash this out without people getting’ killed and you’re just
makin’
things worse,” Connor said.
“You’re
takin’
his side, instead of your
own
sister,” Gracie said, “what the hell is wrong with you, Connor?”
Connor turned and gave her a good smack
across
the cheek.
“You heard me, Gracie. Stop talking,” he said.
Gracie panicked. She started pounding her fists
into
Connor’s chest, but he didn’t budge. She cried and wailed, then collapsed to her knees a crying mess.
“Connor, I got no beef with you or your gang. I just want us all to walk out of here and forget any of this happened,” Buck said.
Connor thought for a moment, looking
to
his sister crying on the ground. I could see his embarrassment at having her by his side.
“Gracie, get up,” Connor said.
He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the loose gravel. She didn’t resist, and just seemed to have lost all interest in what was happening.
Connor pulled her back and sat her on his motorcycle. She sat without a sound, motionless. Then Connor turned back to
Buck and me
.
“Buck, I got nothing against you. I was just
tryin’
to do right by my sister. When you said you were
gettin’
married
to Tara,
I thought you were joking. I had a feeling you were just saying
that ‘cause
you didn’t want to end up with Gracie. I don’t blame you; if she weren’t family, things would have been different.
“Get outta here, Buck,” Connor said.
He backed up and eased back on his cycle, and kicked it started.
“You got a hell of a girl there,” Connor Added.
“I
really
do,” Buck said.
Buck turned and started walking back towards me. I was glad things ended so easily and without a fight. Then again, I did miss watching Buck get ornery.
“I’m the only one you should ever love,” shouted Gracie, then she turned her gaze toward me, “he would love me if you were dead!”
Gracie held up a revolver, taking aim straight at me. I started to
duck,
and I felt everything start to move incredibly slowly. I looked at Buck, who had a horrified expression.
I could remember the first time I saw him. He wasn’t as big then, but he was scrappy. I wondered if he ever thought about me when we were younger. There are worse ways to die; I wouldn’t be able to dodge at this distance.
I closed my eyes as I heard the shot, and I waited for the pain that would follow, but it never came.
I opened my eyes a second later to see Buck hovering over me. Blood poured from an open wound in his shoulder. I stared into his big eyes and
he
in mine.
“I love you,” Buck said.
“Don’t die,” I squeaked out.
“Ugh, it’s just a shoulder shot,” he replied, “I didn’t like that tattoo
anyway
.”
He collapsed on top of me. I didn’t realize how much he
really
weighed until then.
8.
Everything was a blur for the rest of that night. We ended up at a hospital where he got his shoulder sewn shut. I stayed with him the whole
time,
and we exchanged knowing glances.
He wasn’t the man I remembered at all. I wanted to hold him and never let him go. I knew he would always be there to protect me, and that was a feeling I never wanted to lose.
Connor turned in his
own
sister for what she’d done. I think he knew that if Buck decided to come after her, she wouldn’t have made it far. Connor even visited him in the hospital to make amends.
The next morning the hospital released Buck. He
was built
like a tank, and it would’ve taken a lot more to do
him in
.
I met him out front with his motorcycle, the old hand me down he received from
father
. With his arm still in a
sling,
he hopped on the cycle.
“I think I’ll take the lead on this one, Buck. You can’t brake with only one arm,” I said.
“This is my
bike;
I’m the only one in this saddle,” he said.
I cocked and eye, the same look my mother gave me a million times. It always worked
on
my father when he was alive, and it
looked
like it might just work with Buck.
He let out a drawn out sigh and scooted to the back seat of the bike. I hopped into the driver
seat,
and he threw his arm around my stomach.
I finally felt like I was home.
*****
THE END
The Russian’s Secret Love Child – Tyra’s Story
A BWWM Billionaire Pregnancy Romance
''It's okay, Tyra, hold on to me,'' Natalie said as Tyra collapsed into her arms.
Father Smith had told me it would be like this, Tyra thought. But which of the emotions had he meant? The Grief or the guilt? Tyra was experiencing both. Two of the most powerful human emotions were wracking through her at will.
''Tyra, we're so sorry for your loss.'' Tyra lifted her head from Natalie's shoulder. It was
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Radley Samuels, Tyra's boss and his wife.
''Thank you for coming. I
really
appreciate it.'' Tyra didn't think she could speak, but the words came out somehow. Natalie handed her another tissue and for a
moment,
Tyra could see clearly again. She looked to her left and saw a line of mourners waiting to express their condolences to her.
''If only I hadn't been so selfish,'' Tyra said to Natalie as they walked up the cemetery path. It had taken an eternity to work
through
the line of those seeking to express their condolences and Tyra was exhausted. ''It was
foggy,
and I knew dad didn't want to drive that day. It was me. Me moaning that they hadn't been to see me in my new home in the city. Lord knows, I think I even suggested they weren't interested in me anymore.'' She held onto Natalie again as another insufferable wave of guilt rammed at her. ''No, I killed them. Dad would never have taken
mom
out in the car on a day like
normally
.'' Natalie didn't know how to comfort her friend. They were both just
twenty-three
and
beginning
to make their way in the world. Losing parents
wasn't
supposed to happen until later in life.
*****
Three weeks after the funeral, Tyra stood outside the jewelry store on Wes
t 47th Street and looked at it, really looked
at it, for the first time. I've been working here for seven months, and this is the first time I've properly taken the place in, she thought.
Grief-stricken
and riddled with
guilt;
she felt her senses had become sharper since the passing of her parents. It was as if someone was making her take notice of the world. Making her appreciate what can so easily be torn away from you, in an instant.
West 47th Street was full of jewelry shops, but none as grand as J.P Samuels. They might as well have called it, '
Jewelers to the rich and famous,'
she thought. For that's what it was. A place where the rich came to gorge on expensive stones. The front of the store was imposing. Between the cleanest store windows in New York, there were columns of polished black granite. The entrance was in the middle of the
store
and it
too
was surrounded by shiny black stone. The door itself
was made
of
bulletproof
, reinforced glass. What Tyra liked best about the facade was the sign. It
was made
of copper and ran the length of the store. The background was dark and the letters that had
been forged
onto
it
were
polished
and stood out better than any other letters on the street.
''Welcome back Tyra.
I'm so sorry to hear about your mom and dad,'' Leon said.
''
Thanks,
Leon. It's very brave of you to say so.'' She'd found that most people just turned away from her, not knowing what to say. Not Leon. It was his job to stand inside the door and keep out the undesirables. He was perfectly equipped to do so at six feet seven and two hundred and fifty pounds, but it involved hours standing in the same place, day after day.
''Tyra, my girl,'' Radley Samuel's said. He'd been waiting for her.
Normally,
he didn't stand in the shop.
He had others to do that for him. His job was managing the business
that
his grandfather had started. ''Come with me.''
Tyra followed him through the store. They walked past glass cabinets filled with beautiful necklaces, rings, bracelets,
earrings,
and watches. At the back of the
store
, they went through a door and down a corridor. The first door on the right led to a security room. Tyra had never been in the
room,
but she had seen inside
once
when the door had been open. It was full of monitors and the latest lock down systems. It was all
hi-tech,
and she had no idea about any of it.
Radley pushed open the first door on the left and showed her into his office. How can anyone spend hours in an office with no daylight?
she
wondered. There were pictures of his ancestors on one wall and a giant
flora
vase in the corner. What she liked most about his office was the carpet. It was
deep
red with the company crest woven into it.
''Tyra, please sit down.'' He pointed to a button backed armchair
that
stood in front of his mahogany desk. ''I want you to tell me how you are feeling. You've been through a
lot,
and I want to make sure
you’re
feeling up to working again.'' I wish I had a daughter like her, she's so graceful and kind, yet determined and motivated, he thought.
''Well, honestly speaking, I'm still feeling awful.'' You can tell him
everything;
he cares for you, she
told
herself as a moment of doubt crept into her mind. ''I weep a lot, especially in the evening and I feel guilty.
So guilty.''
She noticed how closely he was listening to her. The furrows on his forehead were
deep
with concern for
her,
and his eyes were looking directly into hers, seeking any sign that a return to work may be too early.
''There is nothing I can say to you that will make you feel better. All I can do is tell you what happened to me when my son
was killed
.'' Killed? I didn't know he'd had a son, she thought. The thought that someone close to her had also suffered such a loss made her feel better.
''My son was only nineteen. He was studying business at New York University and working here
at
the weekends.'' He stopped talking for a moment, took out a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his forehead. Tyra knew him to be
fifty-nine
. He was quite tall and
very thin
. It was as if he was so involved in his business he forgot to eat.
He looked at her with a pained expression as he continued. ''One morning, he left home to go to college, and he never came back again. A man who had been drinking all
night
decided to get into his
car
and drive to the girlfriend he had left for dead in her apartment the previous evening. When he fell asleep at the wheel, it was my son he hit.'' Tyra noticed a crack in his voice. ''Walking down the street minding his own business.'' He took the handkerchief and blew his nose.
''Oh my God, that's awful,'' Tyra put her hand to her mouth.
He nodded. Perhaps I shouldn't have burdened her with this, he thought. ''
At first,
everything was a blur. It was only after the funeral had taken place that it
really
hit me. After the funeral, everyone seems to disappear. All the kind words and supporting arms are no longer there. You are suddenly alone.'' He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair and looked towards a photo on his desk. Tyra couldn't see who it was. She assumed his son.
''The
Undertaker
had warned me about it. A deep hole, he'd called it, and I fell into it.'' When he
paused,
Tyra thought about where she was mentally and recognized what he was describing. ''The
Undertaker
also explained that there is something called the cycle of grief. You go through stages of grief, and if you are lucky, eventually come out the other end. The last stage is called the acceptance
stage
. You stop all the blaming and come to terms with what's happened.
Of course,
you're still
sad,
but it gets easier.''
''It's very kind of you to tell me this. I had no idea. I was afraid I would have this level of pain for the rest of my life.'' Tyra looked at her hands. Her nails used to be so manicured, she thought.
''When I employed you, Tyra, I saw something in you. You are one of life's
good
people. I can see you care about people. When you talk to
clients,
you are patient, and most importantly, you listen to them. Did you know I have no relatives?''
Tyra shook her head.
''No.''
''Well, I don't. Not one, and no friends. There's only my wife and me.'' He looked at her, and wondered what he was about to say, would do to her. ''I am going to leave the business to you.'' He stared at her, not wanting to miss her reaction.
''Pardon?' Tyra said. She wasn't really in the mood for jokes.
''I am going to leave the business to you,'' he repeated.
What the hell is he
playing at
? This isn't funny, doesn't he know I've just buried my parents. She went to stand
up,
but he put up his hand and stopped her.
''For the last time, Tyra. You will inherit this business.'' Someone knocked on the
door;
it was his wife. ''Tell her Eliana, she doesn't believe me.''
''How are
you,
Tyra? We are
very worried
about you?'' she said ignoring her husband's plea for help.
''I've been better.'' What are they playing at, surely Jewish people don't give things away like this, she
thought?
''My husband, as you know, isn't given to pranks. We have decided to leave it to you.
Of course,
you are young, and you have only just started in the business, but we see you have got what it takes.'' She put her hand on Tyra's shoulder and looked her into her eyes. ''You are
intelligent,
and you have an enormous appetite for the business. We have never seen anyone with your enthusiasm. We are both sixty next year and all we have done with our lives is sit in this store.'' She looked at her husband and gave him
an assertive
nod. ''In five years time, we will retire and travel. You will take over as
manager,
and when we die, it will all be yours. Take the time between now and then to learn all you can about the business.''
''Are you okay to come back to work?'' Radley asked. Tyra looked at him and burst into tears. It was a gesture so
great
that
her
emotions overflowed.
Eliana sat on the chair arm and put her arm around her. ''You have been through a lot, but you have us, and we will help you all we can.''
*****
Tyra started up
Google
and typed in:
'The Hope Diamond'
She read: Value $350 million dollars, 45
karats
, 9.1 grams. ''Three hundred and fifty million dollars,'' she whispered under her breath.
She and Radley had agreed that she would work in the shop four days a week and spend the other two days shadowing him. He' made a list of things he had to teach her.
He
hadn't realized how long the list would prove to be. One thing he couldn't teach her was diamond cutting. While he was an expert at grading and valuing gems, he'd never enjoyed using tools. Tyra had told him that she'd go to college in her own time and learn.
''How do you like your desk?'' Radley asked as he poked his head into her new office. Tyra wondered if the room had been intended as a broom cupboard when the place
was built
, but she didn't want to complain. She was grateful it had a window and more than
grateful
that the Samuels had seen so much potential in her.
''Lovely thanks. I was just looking up information on the Hope Diamond. It
really
is quite spectacular.''
He stepped into the office and looked at the picture
with
her. ''It sure is. One of the best diamonds in the world and it's coming here. I can't quite believe it.''
''Neither can I.'' She'd never heard of the program called,
'Diamonds for All.'
It was an initiative set up by the National Association of Jewelers, with the aim of bringing famous diamonds to places where the public go and see them. Based on reputation, Radley had been asked if he would like to house the Hope Diamond when it came to New York. His store had the best security of any in the
city,
and it had
a strong
room big enough to house a large show cabinet, four security
men,
and the viewing public.