Sarai
I tried to distract myself from his absence with housework, but it was like trying to go through the same routine while missing one arm. I still got a lot done, and that pleased me. Viking's cabin was small, so the effects of even minimal cleaning and tidying were immediately visible.
I did not pick up the leather jacket, however. I felt like I needed it to stay where it was, like a testament to what had happened.
I was just getting busy cleaning the windows when I saw movement through the soap-covered pane. I thought it might be an animal – a bird, maybe, or even Ash's dog – but then a boy stepped out of the tree's shades, looking right at me.
Jake.
Something shivered in my chest. Something about him was so unsettling.
I pulled back from the window and into the hallway, to catch my breath out of his sight.
Neither the front nor the back door of the cabin had a lock. Before long, Jake would certainly come in. I preferred to meet him outside, in the open.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him, loathe to leave the shelter of the doorway.
He was wearing a black T-shirt, trousers with a camouflage pattern and black jump boots today.
Only a gun short of looking like a perfect child soldier.
"You said you'd help me," he stated and dug a phone out of one of the many pockets of his pants. He held it out to me. "Then do it."
I did not reach for the phone. "What is it that you mean to do?" I asked. My eyes kept flitting around and my ears pricked for any noise that could be an incoming motorcycle or a truck. I had no way to extract myself from this situation without someone else's support. Mae's words echoed in my head again. Stay away from the children. Polite to a fault.
"Call CPS or the police. They'll come to investigate. Griff, Harp and I are gonna go home."
CPS. The Child Protective Services. My mother had once told me about them. They were a special type of army, she had said, soldiers that came and disrupted earlier communes. Only now, a decade later, did I understand why.
Three easy steps. Jake had this already figured out.
"Why do I need to make the call?" I asked.
That, apparently, was the wrong question. Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're a grown-up, and a woman," he said as if the answer was glaringly obvious, and also as if being a grown-up woman was the most ignominious thing he could imagine. "If you call, they'll believe you."
My eyebrows went up. "You mean, they will not believe you? Because you are… young and male?" I was so confused.
"Yeah," he snarled. I hear feel his disdain for me and my dumb questions in his tone.
He offered the phone more insistently. "Come on, take it. Do it. I don't have all day."
I took the device with ice-cold hands lest he throw it at my face. It was heavier than expected. Upon touching the screen, it came to life, and a photo of Delilah, surrounded by her children, looked at me. Everyone in the picture was smiling, even Jake.
"Whose phone is this?" I asked.
Jake shrugged. "Ky's. Why?"
My stomach plummeted.
"It doesn't matter. He'll think he lost it. Come on," he urged again. "9-1-1 for the cops, 1-800-2-5-2-5-400 for the CPS. Give it to me, I'll dial it for you-"
His hand went out to grab the phone again, but I pulled it out of his reach.
"No, I can do it," I told him and turned away from him. "Let's go inside. It'll be easier to talk because it's quiet."
He clucked his tongue but followed me all the way into the kitchen.
My thoughts were racing. I tried to come up with a plan to extract myself from this situation entirely and somehow send him away, but there was none. None that came without dire consequences, anyway.
I looked down at the black device in my hands. The last time I had used a phone, it had been a lot smaller, and it had had diamond-shaped rubber buttons with numbers on them, and a small display that showed words and digits in lighter green and darker green. Again I was reminded just how much time I had lost.
Luckily, the phone in my hand was rather straightforward to use. It said "swipe to unlock", so I did with my index finger. The next screen had an icon that showed a telephone receiver, and I tapped on it. While the lower half transformed into a familiar phone keypad, a long list of numbers and names appeared on the top half of the screen. One name and number in particular was listed several times.
I glanced at Jake who stood two arm's lengths away from me on the other side of the kitchen table, angling the phone slightly away from him, and punched in a number, then pressed the green button with the receiver and lifted the phone to my ear.
"Put it on loudspeaker," Jake demanded. I turned away from him, gave him my shoulder and demonstratively put my finger into my free ear.
"Hello," a voice called out from the other end after only two rings, startling me even though I had been prepared. The phone emitted a short buzz of vibration, too, and I clutched it reflexively so as to not drop it.
"Good afternoon. My name is Sarai, uh, Sorensen. Am I speaking with Child Protective Services?"
/
Viking
That fucking leash. The idea of my bitch wearing a collar, like a literal bitch, on all fours, with a leash.
Had some asshole done this to her before? Treated her like a dog? Had her eat out of a bowl and fucked her from behind? It was her fucking Prophet, wasn't it?
I pulled over on the dirt road and got off my bike before I crashed it into a fucking tree. Kicking at rocks was fucking juvenile and stupid, but man, I needed to kick something right now.
Even worse questions came to me – who woulda thought there were worse questions? But there it was.
Had she liked it?
Fuck this.
Did she really need that shit? Or did she just think she did?
Which of that was worse?
FUCK this.
I wanted her to be my old lady. By my side, not at my fucking feet, goddamn it. Growing, standing tall, next to me. Instead, her only fucking wish was to hunch her shoulders and hide behind me. Hiding from the MC, from my family, of which I wanted her to be a part.
Alright, I needed a beer. Now.
So I got my ass back on my bike and rode, the long way round, towards Flame's and Maddie's place. It was actually shorter to just go on foot through the woods than to take the roads, but I was already on my bike and I needed a couple of minutes to stop foaming at the mouth anyway.
When I pulled up, AK's Street Rod was parked next to Flame's fiery Chopper, and both brothers were sitting on the porch, drinking beer. That actually made me crack a smile.
"Lookit you. Couple of rocking chairs and a basket full'a wool for your knitting is all that's missing from this picture," I boomed.
"Shut your mouth and sit your ass down." AK nodded his chin at the empty chair to his left.
I did, mostly because the cooler full of Southern Star Bombshell Blonde stood right there, too.
"How are things in pregnancy-land?" I smirked at AK as I opened the first can.
He didn't even have the energy for a proper comeback, just flipped me off. I laughed.
"Here's some bullshit for ya," AK said and paused for effect. "Morning sickness. Except they don't tell you that no one ever specified that shit geographically. It's always morning somewhere on Earth. Fucking bullshit." He took a gulp from his own beer. "Also, you ever heard of people getting nauseous from water? The smell of water, specifically? I didn't even know that water had a smell. Especially not bottled water." He mimed his head exploding and grimaced a silent scream, then fell back into his chair and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Six more months of this. Shoot me now."
"Might take longer," Flame commented drily and shrugged a shoulder when AK looked at him like he'd sprouted horns. "Postpartum nausea. Google it."
AK stared and I thought he was either gonna start to cry or launch outta his chair and rip Flame's tongue out. I just laughed my ass off and sipped my beer.
"Ash told me about Sarai," Flame said, and my laughter instantly died in my throat.
"That so?" I asked. Fuckin' Ash.
Flame nodded.
And said nothing else.
God.
Fucking.
Dammit.
"This bitch is going to send me to an early grave," I exploded. "Walks into the Prezes house with my fucking gun to avenge me or something. 'Cause she thought y'all had beaten my ass to death, which you damn near did."
I lifted the cold beer and very, very gingerly set it against the goose-egg still sprouting on the side of my head. Stung like the dickens, more than a week later. Probably should ask Smiler if this was anything to worry about. Same with the half-stitched groove adorning my thigh that didn't seem to be healing up nearly fast enough.
Both would have to wait. I had a rant to finish.
"Who does that? Fucking suicidal, self-deprecating, amazingly ballsy, crazy bitches, that's who! Then she completely melts down on me, almost gives me a goddamn heart attack, cause fucking Rider shows his ugly fucking face which looks just like Prophet Shartnazi's and triggers a whole hell of bad memories."
I didn't mention the out-of-this-world stuff that had happened between that day and now. Some shit was just private and too hard to explain. None of my brothers would understand exactly why I wasn't in any hurry to get my dick into her. Fuck, even I could hardly understand it, really. Something about the anticipation and taking tiny steps and enjoying the togetherness.
"And then she gets anxious enough to chew her own fingernails bloody at the prospect of ever interacting with a person of this MC that isn't me 'cause apparently Mae gave her an ultimatum or something, to stick to the 'terms and conditions' or get fucking lynched or whatever. So of course now she's convinced she needs some David bloody Koresh meets Christian fucking Grey type of obsessive-compulsive control freak to dictate every little step of her life to keep her from fucking things up for herself, and me, whenever we walk out the door. Jesus H. fucking Christ. Gimme a goddamn break."
There. Done. I huffed and chugged my beer and crushed the empty can in one hand.
My two brothers kept silent for a long time.
"You love her."
I swiveled my head around to AK and yelled at him, "Of course I fucking love her! She's my old lady, dammit!"
This wasn't even about the principle of the thing. Loving Sarai was as easy as breathing. Easier than that, in fact, what with my broken ribs. The particulars were the problem. Loving her properly – fuck me, that was more like rocket science. Drunk rocket science, translated by google into fucking sanskrit.
Couldn't get the fuckin' fear outta my head that maybe she needed more than I'd ever know how to give her, and that I was doing her wrong by wanting to keep her here.
"Finally." AK grinned into his beer. "Fucking finally, Vike."
"Yeah, thanks for that helpful input," I grumbled and crushed the already crumpled can with two hands to make a point. Didn't care that the last drops of beer ran landed on my hands. "Least one of us can see the humor in this situation."
AK just kept grinning. "Finally someone comes along and gives you a challenge, man."
I glowered. I didn't want a fucking challenge, I wanted to live a good life with my old lady and my club, to eat and to drink, and be merry by occasionally fucking and occasionally hitting someone in the face, and never fucking die.
My brother opened his hands explaining, "Look. Killing weak-assed Texas Nazis is easy. Fucking sluts is easy. Making brothers laugh and-or punch you in the face is easy. That's all you've been doing with your life for fucking decades now."
Oversimplification… but not entirely incorrect. I kept glowering.
"But this bitch… She's a work in progress, man. She's going to need constant effort. You'll have to be ready to fucking wrestle her every step of the way. And I, for one, am gonna be sittin' here and I'm gonna enjoy the hell out of watching that." He grinned so fucking wide my fist was itching to meet his mouth. "Years and years and years of you talking shit about brothers being pussy-whipped. About fuckin' time it came back and bit you in the ass, Vike."
"Yeah, well. Enjoy your gloating while you can." I rubbed my face. "I'm… I just don't know. Don't know if this is good for her at all. I don't know if she should be here. With me."
Both of them were silent at that.
Shortly thereafter, a car came up the driveway and parked over to the side. Phebe's Volkswagen Polo, with Phebe in the driver's seat, Zane riding shotgun, and Madds and the twins in the back.
"Aaand of course she's driving," AK muttered and cursed as he got up and walked toward the car. Flame followed to help Zane and Maddie unload the two toddlers napping. I watched as hungry kisses and friendly hugs and backslaps were exchanged and the groups reformed. AK, Phebe and Zane drove off while Flame and Maddie carried Isaiah and Lillian over and into the cabin. Maddie greeted me with a smile and a small touch of her hand to my shoulder as she walked by me.
It had taken her almost four years to get to the point where she would willingly make skin contact with any guy except Flame.
Four years. And that had been on good terms, in the most favorable conditions, because everybody, from the hardest-hearted of big, sweaty biker dudes to the last dried-up cynical old lady, fucking loved Madds. How could you not? Bitch was an angel and a saint.
I put my arm across my eyes and closed them and tried real hard not to sound my barbaric yawp of pure frustration. I didn't want an angel or a saint. I wanted my bitch as she was, exactly because she was the furthest possible thing from angelic or saintly, but I wanted her to feel safe and whole and part of something that, for once, wouldn't prey on her.
Yet here I was, replaying that scene in my head over and over. That fucking leash. Why did my bitch feel like she needed a dictator in her life?
Flame eventually came out again and sat back down, handing me another beer. I held on to it without opening it. Couldn't stomach it right now.
"When I first met Maddie, I didn't fucking know anything."
I looked over at him with narrowed eyes. "What?"
Brother didn't turn toward me, didn't explain, just kept going. "Didn't know anything. 'sides killing, pain and bikes, I didn't know any fucking thing. Didn't even know that I didn't know anything. She showed me that."
"Fuck, Flame." I was speechless – and reasonably certain that Flame was talking about sex. It made me cringe a bit on the inside. Didn't want to think about Flame and Madds fucking. They were both too much like little siblings. Some things, you just didn't want to know anything about.
But this was Flame, and the brother rarely ever talked. Right now it seemed he had a whole speech prepared, which meant that this was real important to him.
So I sighed, I kept my mouth shut and listened to whatever he had to get off his chest.
"She also had many things she needed to learn, back then. Maddie and I both needed to learn. She was very patient, with me and with herself. We talked. She… she talked and I listened. We tried and tried and we somehow made it. "
He fell silent for a bit. I almost thought he was done oversharing already and I had to figure out the point he was trying to make for myself.
"We made it, Vike." I only then noticed that he was agitated, but different from how he usually was. Positive agitation. Strange to see it on the brother. "She's fucking mine, Vike, all mine, and our kids are mine, and I'm so fucking... I'm so...
"Happy?" I prompted. Sounded to me like Flame was describing happiness.
But the brother shrugged and glared straight ahead. He had never been good with any feeling that wasn't anger.
"I'm glad you're happy, brother. You're good with her and with your kids. You deserve that shit, man."
Flame shrugged again. I decided to back off a bit with the emotions talk. No need to overload the brother's brain.
"You and Sarai are the same," Flame suddenly said, surprising the hell outta me. This wasn't like him at all, all that deep shit. "Just like Maddie and me, back then."
I searched for words for a moment to be tactful about this. "Well, maybe we're a bit different still."
Flame shook his head decisively. "Sarai is like I was. She knows nothing except killing and pain, and she's just as fucking impatient as I was. I used to fuck up so often and it made me so fucking angry. Sarai's angry, just like I was. At herself because she keeps thinking she fucks everything up. And then she gets scared because every time she fucked up in the past, bad shit happened."
She knows nothing except killing and pain.
Holy fuck. I grimaced at the physical blow these words dealt against my chest, and at the gut punch of the realization that followed: She's just trying to make sense of this new life of hers, and I fucking ran away from her and left her alone.
"So you've got to be like Maddie," Flame continued to unload, unaware or uncaring that his words had sent me into an actual goddamn crisis. "You need to lead her and be patient and talk, like my Maddie did with me. Because Sarai can't do it, just like I couldn't do it. Because I didn't know how. But you do. You're Vike. You need to try and try again and be patient for both of you."
"That's," I eventually managed to get outta my mouth, "a whole lotta faith you have in me, brother."
Flame shrugged and leaned back, and that was that.
I considered the full can of beer in my hand before setting it down. "You know, I think I gotta go have a talk with someone."
He watched me get on my bike and drive off.
/
TBC