Page 1 of Risk (Mayhem Makers: MMM #3)

RISK

Like many men and women before me, I’ve made one bad decision after another.

The worst one was the night I went out on the town with my brothers and let my alcohol imbibed mind overrule my normally common sense one.

McKenna, the woman I’d made vows to, the female who wove herself into my heart and soul was in the recess of my mind, but the fact that I’d drunk more than my body weight in liquor meant she was tucked way back in my thoughts, not front and center where she should’ve been.

Nothing makes you feel like a bigger bastard than when the one person you promised forever to catches you in bed, doing things you shouldn’t be doing, with another woman.

That was the worst night of my life. In my hazy thoughts, I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn’t seem to snap out of the fog.

The deflated shoulders and the broken look on her face when she slammed through that motel door had shame streaming through every vein in my body.

I hated myself more than she ever could’ve.

Still do to this day. I vowed to never put anybody else through that type of devastating heartbreak, so the day she and I went our separate ways, I veered in the opposite direction from any commitments outside of my club and the brotherhood.

I keep to the club girls to scratch the itch and relieve the stress whenever I can’t contain it anymore, but that’s it.

I don’t hook up when I’m out and about, I avoid bar flies and don’t associate with anyone that isn’t associated with the Deviant Knights or our security firm.

Been there, done that, have the scars to prove it.

Those wounds and lacerations run deep. They aren’t just physical manifestations, they’re more profound than that because they’ve also marred my soul.

She’s marked me in a way that I can never bounce back from.

And that’s nobody’s fault but my own. I did that. I hurt her. I broke us.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss my Vixen and what we had.

I have to drown out those memories before I can settle in and sleep at night.

That’s one thing that hasn’t changed, my love of the bottle.

I started drinking at a tender age. My dad was a raging alcoholic who found it funny to get his ten year old son drunk as a skunk.

But I learned to enjoy the burn of my trachea, and the way the problems of the world would disappear with every shot I took.

At one point, I was nothing more than a functioning alcoholic—just like my old man.

I could do the everyday chores without a hitch after swallowing a pint of Jack.

That’s the one and only thing that I’ve backed away from.

I still need a glass or twenty at night when I crawl into bed so her face doesn’t flash through my memories and keep me from catching some Z’s, but I no longer need a drink to exist.

I have to give props to Conan since he’s the first one who noticed my downfall and became a one man wrecking crew.

He took me out on the road for a camping trip in the middle of nowhere, refused to let me chase my demons away like I usually did, and made me face them head on.

We got into a fist fight that night because I wasn’t ready.

I didn’t give a shit that I was destroying my life and the trust my brothers had in me.

The only thing I gave a fuck about during that time was not seeing her in my dreams. She haunted me.

Her ghost is still present in my life, but it’s not as prominent as it once was.

But standing here in this store, seeing her for the first time in years, makes me want to vomit. She looks harder, her back has steel in it and her eyes are full of venom as we stare at each other. There’s no shock there, just resolve.

Demi walks up to me, tiptoeing like one would when they approach a wounded animal, which isn’t far from the mark. “You alright?”

“Feel like my heart's just been ripped out of my chest,” I confess. “I both love that woman with all of my heart, but I hate her just as much.”

“They say love and hate have a fine line between them,” she states. “What happened between you two that turned love into hate?”

“I fucked up,” I tell her. “I was young and dumb. I thought I had to be one way to keep the respect of my brothers. Let’s just say I acted like bikers are portrayed and as a result, I lost her.”

“What did you do?” she asks. I debate on telling her the truth or shoving my past under the rug.

But she’s hardheaded and won’t give up until she has me pulling all of my skeletons out of the closet.

Plus, she’s a sister, and I can’t very well lie to her and keep her at an arm’s length because Conan would have my ass in a vice.

And seeing as I owe that man more than I could ever repay, I decide to be honest—to a degree.

Clearing my throat, my eyes focused on McKenna, I answer, “I went out with our more free-loving brothers, met a girl, got drunk off my ass and wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Oh!” she whisper-shouts. “When you say you screwed up, you mean you really fucked up, don’t you?”

“In the worst way a man committed to a woman could,” I hiss, gulping down the bile so I don’t spew it all over her. “Worst mistake of my life.”

“Do you think you could redeem yourself with her? Is she the forgiving type?” she asks.

“Could you?” I ask, lowering my eyes and giving her my attention. Temporarily.

“If I’m being honest with you, Risk, probably not. But then again, she’s not me. I’ve been betrayed by nearly everyone in my life, once I give trust it’s given without any strings, and if those strings were to be clipped, I doubt I’d be forgiving. Especially if it was Conan that did that to me.”

“Then you just answered your own question, Demi.”

“I suppose I did. I’m sorry, Risk. I wish I had words of wisdom that’d fix this for you, but I’m drawing a blank. Once trust is broken–”

“It’s broken,” I say, finishing her sentence.

A look of pity crosses her face and it has me clenching my hands into fists at my sides. I don’t want anyone’s pity—I made my bed therefore I need to lay in it.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. We still have to get to the furniture store.” I nod my head knowing that there’s nothing I can do or say to make this a less tense conversation and moment. McKenna raises her brows at me and nods her head. I nod back and try to forget that she and I crossed paths.

Easier said than done.

Days later, I’m at the clubhouse nursing a drink when a shadow looms over me before taking shape and sitting in the seat directly beside me.

“Heard McKenna’s back,” Conan says, sliding into the barstool beside me.

“Need me to do anything? I can go find out why she’s here, in our town, and try to convince her not to stay for long. ”

Whereas I’d love nothing more than to know why she’s roaming around our town, I think I need to let bygones be bygones for now and leave her be.

I’ve done enough to her so if she’s here for a bit, I can avoid her if we happen to run into each other.

“Nah, leave her be. Most likely, this is just a stop on the map for her.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he says as he slips off the stool and walks over to his old lady. Even if I’m no longer a fan of relationships, I’m happy for Kodiak and Conan. They have good women, and my brothers would never do to them what I did to McKenna.

They’re better men than me. A sad fact, but a true one. Once those brothers commit, they’re in for life. Nothing and nobody would dare get in their way or try to tear apart their family.

Echo comes up to me and rubs up against me. “You okay, Risk?”

She’s a good girl, always there and standing up for us brothers against the other club girls.

The one bad thing about these ladies is they’re catty and always trying to dig their claws into us.

Echo’s different, she’s not looking to catch one of us and wear our patch.

She had a bad life before finding us and is happy to exist in our world where she knows she’s safe and where she knows we’ll protect her.

“I’ve been better, Echo,” I mumble, lifting the tumbler to my mouth and taking a large swallow. “You know how it is when your past catches up to you.”

“Yeah. It’s unfortunate, but I’m keenly aware of what that’s like. If you need to talk or want to take a walk to clear your head, let me know and I’ll come with you. I want you to know that I’m here for you outside of the bedroom too,” she acknowledges. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I know you are, Echo. You’re a good girl,” I reiterate what I was thinking earlier, only this time, it’s said out loud instead of in my internal thoughts. “But I don’t think I’d be good company tonight.”

She reaches out and squeezes my hand before walking away. I’m thankful she isn’t one to pry because I don’t think I could take another walk down memory lane today and come away unscathed.