Always Been Mine (19 page)

Ian parked in the basement and moved me to the elevator quickly. I had a second to realize that Matty was right. It was eerie down here and I half expected some sort of mythical being to jump out and attack us. Ian grabbed a spare fob from its hiding spot and then we were upstairs. He swept me up into his arms and carried me off the elevator to the couch, like I was some helpless pathetic girl that had just swooned. I bit back my resentment.

"
Thanks for bringing me back." I sighed as I kicked the heinous shoes off and tucked my feet under me, leaning back into the pillows. "But, you don't have to hover, I'm fine." He shrugged, leaning against the island, facing me, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sleeves of tattoos covered each arm, and I was surprised I hadn’t noticed them earlier. The left arm held a large black tribal design, ending a few inches below his elbow. The right arm also lacked color, and was filled with words and pictures that I couldn’t make out, ending abruptly at his wrist. He adjusted and I suddenly remembered I was still wearing his jacket. Leaning forward, I shrugged out of the warm leather, and held it out to him. He stepped forward, took it, and draped it over a chair. I stared at the picture. 

"It's Itus.” Seeing my confusion he sighed, tugged on his jeans a little and sank to the couch next to me. “The Greek God of protection. He was a mortal man, a good man. He didn’t lie, didn’t steal, and his skills with a sword were unmatched. Apollo chose him to be his protector, gave him two new swords to slay the wicked—those that would do harm to others. Later, Zeus made Itus a God so he could spend eternity protecting the innocent.” He looked back at the jacket. “That’s what we do.”

I almost couldn’t speak. “Slay the wicked?”

He laughed. “No. Protect the innocent.” He looked back at me.

“So, you’re like a real gang?
It’s not pretend?”
     He raised an eyebrow. “We’re not a gang. But, yeah, we’re a real club.” His eyes searched my face. “You don’t know much about Mateo, do you?” His tone was curious, not snide

I thought I did. I knew what he was thinking before he did most days. I knew all his favorites, from movies to quotes to food. I knew his expressions, his body language, and now every part of his body. But, Ian was right; this weekend had proved that I didn’t really know him that well. What else was he hiding? I shook my head, sighing. “Not the version you know.”

He gave me a sharp look, glancing at my ring. “We all have secrets, Joey. Sometimes we keep the most important ones, the ones we hate about ourselves or the ones that we know no one will understand, hidden away from the people we love. We’re afraid that if they knew the truth, they’d leave. Or worse, if they see who we really are, they won’t love us anymore.”

I wanted to laugh. He couldn’t be more than in his early twenties, but this kid had serious insight. “That’s a great reason to hide, isn’t it?”

His eyes searched mine. “Fuck yeah. Especially if it’s someone you’ve loved for a long time. Until you know for sure they’re not gonna run away.”

I nodded. I wasn’t running.

Ian helped me pass the time by telling me stories of his girlfriend, Ellie. She was a school teacher for a local public school, and according to him, a 'truly good girl.' When he talked about her, his cheeks twitched as he fought the smile she brought to his face. He finally put his guard down and beamed when he showed me pictures of her on his phone, informing me that she was too good for him, but that she loved him anyway. His happiness was contagious, and I felt like I not only knew her, but I liked her, when he was done.

The early light of dawn was hitting the city when the boys started to trickle in. We congregated in the kitchen/living room, making cup after cup of coffee, checking cell phones repeatedly, trying to kill time with small talk. The current of worry that ran around the room was terrifying, even though they all tried to mask it with jokes. I hadn’t bothered to change, sure that if I went downstairs I’d miss out if news came. 

Rocker didn’t come home until the sun was burning down, warming the city. He looked like hell. Exhaustion was etched in every line of his face, with a cut above his left eye, knuckles raw and bloody. He looked around, as if doing a mental count, then demanded information on Cris, Tiny and Matty. No one had heard anything.

They’d all been held at the station, detained for questioning. Rob thought he’d been the last one there, going over the details again and again. I got the feeling that it wasn’t the first time he’d been through this. Then I remembered where he met Matty, and realized it really wasn’t the first time. Looking over the rag tag bikers, who, with the exception of Ian, were all sporting bruises of some sort, it dawned on me that it certainly wouldn’t be the last, either.

Rob leaned on the back of the couch, looking down at me, and asked about my injuries. After he was sure I was ok, he sighed. “Not quite the night you expected, eh? I…” his voice broke off as Tiny walked through the door.

He tipped his head backwards. “They’re right behind me.” His usually pleasant face was tense and he looked wary.

Rocker nodded, standing up. “Go home. We’ll talk later.” There was a rumble of agreement as all four of the men that had kept me company all night stood and headed for the stairs.

Tiny didn’t move, looking from me to Rob. “He’s pissed. Angrier than I’ve seen him in years. Providence pissed.” Rocker stiffened, but didn’t say anything. The two obviously knew something I didn’t. “Maybe I should stay.” Tiny’s eyes rested on me again.

“No.” Without any further explanation from Rocker, Tiny nodded once and followed the rest down the stairs.

I didn’t have a chance to ask before I heard the ding of the elevator and Cris came limping into the room, Matty hot on her heels. Seeing me, he hesitated for just a small moment, then strutted over the couch. Grabbing me and pulling me up, he gave me a giant, tight hug. He moved back, looking over my face. “How sore is it?”

I wanted to tell him it wasn’t bad, and that I was fine. One look at him, though, and I lost all words and started bawling. I lifted my hands, touching his very red, very swollen eye as gently as I could, and then moved my fingers down to the dried blood under his nose. “You’re hurt!” His lip looked much worse than mine, and when he smiled at me, he winced.

“This? This ain’t nothin’ honey. As long as you’re ok, I’m ok.” He smirked, wincing again. “Jesus, Joes. When I saw that guy hit you… I… fuck!” His hands ran through my hair gently, and he bent down, pulling my forehead to his. “I could have killed him! I should have been with you, not halfway across the fuckin’ bar. I am so sorry, Joes!” Then his mouth was on mine, rough and claiming. It wasn’t painful to me, but I tasted blood and knew his lip had cracked again. I pushed him away, intending to get him a cold pack.

He looked over my head at Rob. "Where the fuck were you?" he hissed. "You said you had eyes on her!" I watched Matty's face transform from worried boyfriend into a rage filled maniac.

"Back off, Mateo!” Cris jumped in before Rocker had a chance to speak. “I knew it… I fuckin’ knew you had him creepin’ us! We’re not kids, and I don't need a fuckin' babysitter."

Matty turned on her. She was leaning on the counter, obviously exhausted, but she adjusted herself under his glare. "You fucking happy? Don’t you ever get tired of causing trouble?”

She straightened, ready for a fight, her voice ice cold. “What?” Her eyes grew dangerously wide. “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done! That jerk should be in jail, not out partying it up like…”

Matty interrupted. “We had it under control Crissia! When are you gonna learn to fucking back off and let us handle shit!”

Cris narrowed her eyes. “You knew he was going to be there? You fucking knew!” She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize. You in town, the boys all here, agreeing to go to the club… you were on a job!”

"Carlos isn't a job! He's a goddamned menace that hurt someone we love! We wanted him to know..." Matty broke off and took two steps toward her, and for a minute I almost stopped him. He was so intimidating, his rage pouring off him, that I worried for his sister. “Jo was there!” he bellowed. “You confronted him with Jo right there! You should have come got us. It doesn’t matter if we knew he was there or not; when you see scum, you get back up. Plain and simple. You don’t fuckin’ attack someone like Carlos alone!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “What would you have done if he’d pulled a knife or a gun? I can’t…”

"
Matt," the warning tone came from Rocker.

My breath caught as two sets of bright blue eyes turned toward me, glaring. I knew they were looking at the man behind me, but a shiver ran down my spine just the same. Matty turned back to Cris and suddenly they were yelling at each other again.

Fingers wrapped around my arm and I was led backward. “They’ll be at this for a while.” Rob’s voice, low in my ear, informed me. “It’s better if we stay outta the way.” From the murderous look each wore, I couldn't think of a better idea. Something crashed and the sound of glass shattering reached us just as we closed the balcony door. He shook his head. “See?”

He sunk into the padded patio love seat, groaning as he leaned back. “Fuck, I’m old.” He lifted a small glass filled with brown liquid to his eye, and inhaled through his teeth sharply. I sat next to him, pulling up my knees and watching the siblings through the window. Every now and then I could hear a hint of a shout, but no other sound came out. He followed my gaze, sighing before he looked out at the city.

“Does she know you’re in love with her?”

“I’m not.” His eyes met mine. “Anymore.” I raised an eyebrow. It didn’t look like that from my view. “Lots of history between me and her. I don’t love her anymore because I can’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t care. I have a wicked haahd time rememberin’ I don’t haveta protect her anymore.” He looked back into the room, pain evident on his face. “She can take care of herself now, but…,” he tipped back the glass, swallowing all of his drink. “But old habits die haahd.”  

We were going to be here a while. “I googled you.” 

He smirked. “Me? I hope you found somethin’ interestin’.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not you, you. All of you. The Bastards.” Rob’s jaw clenched and his lips moved into a thin line as he inhaled slowly through his nose. “Then I had too google one percenter’s, because I didn’t know what that was either. ‘A vigilante gang that uses various degrees of violence to protect those they deem as innocent.’” I recited to him. “Another site said you were criminals that hid behind the skirts of the general public, who protect you only because they think that you are a modern day Robin Hood.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’s what we do, steal from the rich and give to the poor.”

“I also read that you help every charity you can, participating in anything that has a cause. However, most police believe that your involvement in those events is only to cover your illegal activities. And, according to the web, you’ve all gone to jail. Sometimes the charge is as simple as assault, but more serious crimes have been committed.”

His eyes bore into mine. “And, do you believe everything you read, Joey?”

I didn’t break his stare. “All I know is that Matty never mentioned any of this shit to me. So, I’m asking you, is there anything I should know?”

Rocker looked away then, out over the city. He didn’t speak for a long time, and I wasn’t sure he would say anything at all. Finally, he stretched out his legs. “We aren’t vigilantes, because we know we aren’t above the law." He turned to me. "What would you do if someone hurt your kids? Would you trust the justice system or would you take matters into your own hands? If you found a grown man touching your child, would you call the police or murder him with your bare hands?"

He sighed. "There are people in this world that need help and we help those we can, however we can. No one should evah feel alone. Sometimes it’s raising cash, sometimes it’s us just being there, and sometimes we push the boundaries of the law.

"We aren't saints, Joey. All of us are bein’ chased by our own demons. And, we’re willing to do almost anything to protect those we can from goin’ through the same shit. People are afraid of us for a fuckin’ reason. Every one of us has a breakin’ point and we’ve done something that would make a lady like you be scared shitless. But, we’d do it all again because if we don’t help, no one will. We wanna help; that’s just who we aah.”

“And Matty? That’s who he is?”

Rocker smiled, genuine care crossing his features. “Did you evah wondah why a guy like
Matt became a social workah?” I nodded because I had. “Did you evah ask him why?” I nodded again. His answer had been simple: ‘
Because I want to help the kids.
’ The memory must have shown on my face because Rocker gave me a knowing look. “Yeah, that’s who Matt is. He may be doing it a different way now, but he is a Bastahd through and through.”

I looked back into the house, seeing the sibling still arguing. Rocker didn’t need to say anymore. Looking at Matty now, I knew he was right. Matty wasn’t a saint, he had a past that I might never fully know about because he seemed so damned determined to keep me in the dark. Were his secrets really bad enough that he thought I’d leave over them? So, I didn’t know about his money, or the Bastards, or even the man he used to be. I knew the man he was now, and I loved that version of him. Wasn’t that enough?