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CHAPTER

TWO

Rayleigh

Waking up in the middle of the night, I feel Brick’s warmth at my back while Hobbes purrs contentedly around the top of my head, both of these things settle me, and I end up feeling content.

So many thoughts are running rampant through my brain, I don’t really know where to start or how to sort them in an order so I can begin processing them fully.

“You okay, babe?” His rumbly voice is sleep-laden as a puff of his warm breath caresses the back of my neck, making me shiver.

“There’s a lot to think about, Brick.” My voice is whisper soft since I don’t want to break the cozy silence by talking any louder than I am.

“I understand, but the main takeaway for you is you’re a club princess, you’ve always been one. While it fucking sucks how you grew up, those fuckers are dead and gone and I swear that you’ll never be hurt again.”

“You can’t promise something like that, though, not realistically.”

And in reality, he can’t.

I know they’ve likely got some sworn enemies, and regardless of how big the club he’s a part of now truly is, they’re stationed around the world, not all downstairs. So even if shit comes at them from an unknown threat, there’s no way everyone could respond in time to prevent anyone from being injured. Which means, I could potentially be hurt again.

“Maybe not, so instead, I’ll say it this way. If anyone thinks they’re going to harm one strand of hair on your head, they’re going to pray for a quick and easy death by the time I’m done with them. That much I can promise you, Rayleigh. Because if I don’t do it, your brother sure as hell will.”

“I always wished for a brother,” I confess. “Someone to ride in and save the day, you know? Like all the books I read as a little girl when I was still in school, and the prince swooped in and protected the maiden from the fire-breathing dragon.”

“Well, if fairytales are true, then you’ve gone through the nightmare years and now it’s time for the happily-ever-after, sweetheart.”

“You know they’re not, but I will say I’m thankful you gave me the time I needed.”

“It sure the fuck wasn’t easy,” he replies, chuckling. “Not gonna tell you how many times the brothers talked me down from riding over to your place, tossing you over my shoulder then bringing you back to my lair.”

I can’t help the giggle that escapes as I turn in his embrace so I can cup his cheek in my hand. Looking up at him, I kiss his lips. “But you didn’t, and that means more to me than anything, Brick. I know I’ve still got a ways to go with this whole lifestyle change, but having the knowledge now about how to do the things I didn’t know how to do before makes it a lot easier to process and handle. That probably doesn’t make any sense, does it?” I question.

“It does. If I had bulldozed in and brought you here without letting you make decisions and choices on your own, no matter how well I would have treated you, I would have been no better than your captors were.”

“No! That’s not true, you would never lay a hand on me with the intention to hurt me,” I vehemently protest.

“Not what I meant, Ray. Your whole life, what you can remember of it, anyhow, you’ve had every facet of your day controlled. Then, when you didn’t do what you were told, or didn’t do it the way they wanted, you were punished. While that definitely wouldn’t happen here, how long would it have taken for you to completely shrink into yourself if I had just barreled on into your life instead of being patient?”

I look at him with wonder in my eyes. “Maybe you’re right. I know I can discuss things with you and even get upset or angry and you’re not going to lash out at me.”

“Not gonna happen, babe. I might be in a shit mood and a bit short-tempered, but I’ll never knowingly direct that toward you. It’s not how I was raised and not what I believe in.”

“Can you tell me more about that day?” I quietly ask. “I mean, if you were there, that is. I don’t want to ask Banshee because it’s obviously very traumatic for him if yesterday was any indication.”

He rolls over onto his back and pulls me snugly against his side tucking me in, his hand now caressing along my arm and back. Both Calvin and Hobbes get themselves adjusted since he disrupted their sleep and are soon purring once again, using us as their beds.

I giggle slightly thinking about the fact they’ve got a fancy cat tree in the sitting area, and several different beds all around our suite, yet they prefer to sleep on us.

“What’s got you tickled, babe?” he asks, kissing my forehead.

“Just look at these two, Brick! They’ve got fancy beds and stuff yet where are they sleeping? On top of us. Not only that, but I caught them curled up in the bathroom sink yesterday.”

He chuckles then says, “Cats are curious by nature. Bet the sink’s porcelain was cooler for them to curl up in or something to that extent.”

“We have snow on the ground and Christmas is right around the corner.”

“We’ve got a few weeks for the fat man in the red suit, babe.”

“I have to finish my shopping,” I mutter, completely bypassing the subject at hand.

“The day you were kidnapped—” he starts, leaving the sentence hanging, causing my breath to seize in my body.

Suddenly, I feel as though the information he’s about to impart is going to shatter the rest of me and I desperately wish I had kept my mouth shut instead of asking him to recall that grim day.

“Maybe I don’t need to know this,” I hesitantly murmur, gnawing on my bottom lip.

“Yeah, you do, sweetheart,” he says, using his thumb and finger to pull my lip free from my teeth. “It was early spring, and the club was preparing to have a family day, complete with a cookout along with all the bells and whistles. Me and Ban were two of the oldest kids in the club, and typically, we were tasked with keeping an eye on all of you younger ones. That day, I had a doctor’s appointment for a sports physical, so I wasn’t there with him. Maybe if I had been, the club brothers could’ve found you sooner.”

“Why would you say that?” I ask. “You were a child too, Brick.”

“Because Ban says only one person was in the van and if he was busy knocking Ban out, I could’ve run for help,” he supplies, anguish coating his tone. “I feel as responsible as Banshee does, sweetheart.”

“The only person or persons who are responsible are the ones who chose to be assholes and steal a little girl from her family, then make it look like she was dead to taunt said family,” I angrily retort. “ They’re the assholes, Brick. Not you, not Banshee, and not my parents, hell, not even anyone who was in the club back then. From what you’ve said so far, they scoured the local area looking for me and had the cops involved. I get the impression y’all aren’t too fond of law enforcement so for the club to call them in, y’all left no stone unturned.”

I take a deep breath in order to compose myself while lovingly patting his face.

Once I feel as if I can continue without adding to his angst, I insist, “I don’t remember any of that, which actually sounds like a good thing for my mental well-being, but it kills me inside that you and my brother have harbored this guilt for all of these past years.”

“It was a bad time for the club, sweetheart,” he continues, his voice now somber. “Your parents would go out riding every day tracking down leads, taking backroads, doing whatever they could to see if they could recover your body. Because they were under the impression you were actually dead. Hell, they wouldn’t have a funeral since no body was recovered.”

“What happened then?” I ask, my voice tremulous as I hold back tears thinking of the parents I don’t remember doing everything they can to find me.

I was loved… unconditionally.

Adored.

Cherished.

Those thoughts knit together, weaving together that broken piece of my heart and soul as the realization of what lengths they went to in order to find me courses through my psyche.

Brick

She seems to be taking all of this information I’m tossing at her rather well, although, I’ve felt her tremble a few times. Giving in to my desire to kiss her, I do so, my heart swelling at the love I feel for this woman.

She’s been beaten down but isn’t broken. Just like the phoenix, she’s been steadily rising from the proverbial ashes and glimmering in shades of red and orange instead of dim hues of gray and black.

Breathless, I pull back, happy to see her kiss-swollen lips tipped up in a smile. “So, on that day, while all the old ladies were fixing the side dishes, Ban and the rest of the kids including you, were on the side of the property where we used to have a play area. The brothers had built one of those massive swing set monstrosities, complete with slides, a climbing wall, a teeter-totter, swings of course, and a clubhouse of sorts smack dab in the middle.”

My chest aches and my heart burns as I remember that day and the ones that followed. Her loss affected each and every one of us and caused a black patch to settle into our souls.

Picking up the story from where I stalled, I continue by telling her, “The brothers were in Church during the event, with a few prospects patrolling the grounds, of course, when a white van pulled up near the fence. Ban said he saw them and started yelling for the kids to move toward the back of the play area which was off the kitchen when a scrawny guy jumped the fence and scooped you up. When Ban went after him, he backhanded him in the head, knocking him completely out.”

“Why didn’t any of the other kids go for help?” I ask. “I mean, that’s what I would’ve done under the circumstances. What about the prospects? Where were they?”

“The other kids had gone into the kitchen and were getting snacks from the old ladies and club girls which distracted them enough they didn’t mention what happened outside. Plus, most of them were four or five at most if memory serves. They didn’t realize there was danger because Ban didn’t tell them that, he just simply told them to head inside and that it was time for a snack.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense, but why weren’t the prospects outside overseeing the kids left behind… like me and Banshee?”

“Because believe it or not, they were out and about gathering the shit needed for the cookout at the big box store in town. They came back loaded down with ice, chips, meats, alcohol, beer, soda, juice boxes, and paper products to absolute fucking chaos.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Ban came to, and the van was gone so he hightailed it into the clubhouse and went flying into Church. Understand, sweetheart, that no one enters those doors unless they’re a patched member or they’ve been previously invited in by one of the men. So, when the door flew open, Ban was suddenly faced with ten brothers’ guns pointed at him. After they realized it wasn’t an enemy charging in, he was able to tell them what happened. RiffRaff decided immediately to get the police involved against my grandfather’s best wishes.”

“Who is your grandfather?”

“Astro. He and his best friend were the ones who initially started the club, but he had turned the gavel over to my pops and was just a patched member at the time when this took place, babe. Your dad also advocated for the cops being involved because as he said, and I quote, the more people looking for you, the better the chance we had of getting you back. ”

“So, no family party, huh?” Her voice sounds sad and forlorn.

“The old ladies and prospects cooked everything and kept watch at the clubhouse, trying to keep things calm for the kids, while all the patched brothers and officers hit the streets once the police left. For about a week, at least five brothers were out for twelve hours a day searching for you. They ran in shifts, half staying here and resting while the other half was out and about. Every fucking lead, no matter how sketchy or small, was tracked down and thoroughly investigated. RiffRaff pulled in markers from other clubs, from some of the men the club has been associated with over the years that are quasi-allies, and even from the underground element here in Virginia.”

I feel her breath hitch from where my hand had been smoothly raking up and down her back, so I stop and clutch her closer to me.

When I feel the tension start to ease, I pick the story back up. “They came up empty every single day, sweetheart. Your mom was strong as fuck, she never openly cried after that first day. Instead, she kept shit organized at the clubhouse so the men who were out looking for her baby were well-fed and amply rested. Your dad aged twenty years overnight, I swear, but he never, not once, stopped looking for any trace of you. You have to believe me when I tell you this.”

“Brick, the fact that my brother looked like he saw a ghost yesterday and also how emotional he got in your office when he doesn’t give me the impression he’s got many soft parts, tells me how much this incident impacted everyone,” she conveys, her tone soothing and lulling me.

I didn’t realize my fist was clenched tightly along my side until she started stroking it. Once I unfurl it, she laces our fingers together.

“We can stop if you need to, I know it’s got to be hard remembering all of it.”

“No, I need you to know how everything played out. Sometime in the second week, an envelope was left at the gates addressed to RiffRaff. The prospect brought it in, Church was called, and they opened it to find color pictures of a little girl, all bloody and bruised, unmoving and appearing to be deceased. I’ve never seen the pictures personally, sweetheart, but you heard Ban yesterday and he apparently did see them at some point. You looked dead in those pictures and the note only said, ‘You’ll never find her’ with nothing else for us to go on.”

I take a second to keep my temper checked. I continue to stroke her skin, calming my erratic heartbeat.

“By then, we knew it was the Demon Devils MC behind your kidnapping, they were who had taken you, thanks to the markers and what-not the club had pulled in, but despite our enforcer’s best efforts, little to no information was given. Still, each lead was followed until it ended, and intel dried up. The rest of the club, knowing we were gunning for them, went underground, but your dad and mom never stopped searching.

“Maybe five or six months after you were taken and presumed dead, they were out on a ride, just to get away from everything for a few hours, when a truck hit them and forced them off the road, down an embankment and into some trees. They were killed on impact, sweetheart.”

“Oh, my God! Poor Banshee,” she cries, tears now trickling down her face. “He lost so much in such a short period of time. What happened to him?”

“He came to live with RiffRaff and me,” I tell her, trying to ease her worry over her brother. “My mom wasn’t in the picture and wasn’t really an intricate part of the club, so when that happened to you, my own mother, the woman who birthed me and should’ve loved me more than life itself, moved away. Haven’t seen her since.”

“One incident drastically changed so many people’s lives,” she states, now sobbing.

“Not your fault,” I remind her, just like she did to me. “It was hard on the club, losing Bonzai and Lorelei, and that’s when the club decided to have a funeral for you as well. Even though we didn’t have a body in the physical sense, we buried your parents together, along with some of your favorite belongings, like a Cabbage Patch doll and your favorite blanket. I think Banshee put a heart necklace in there so you would ‘look pretty for Jesus’ or something like that.”

I have to stop talking now, she’s hysterically crying, clinging to me like a barnacle does to the bottom of a boat. “Shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Let it out, it’s going to be okay.”

Over and over, I keep whispering nonsensical things to her in an effort to calm her down.