Burn (10 page)

             
Without looking me in the eyes, he sighed and said, “You were the product of a rape, Birdy. The club put the man that did it to her in the ground, but… she never coped. She had some post-natal depression after your premature delivery, and everyone figured she’d get better with time. She didn’t. Her father tried his hardest with you, tried to get her to see that she was placin’ blame on someone innocent. Rita thinks she turned to Norman because he liked how unfeeling he was to you. It made her feel like she had every right to hate you because he did too.”

             
Scratch what I just said about lacking the space for heart break. Because my heart broke. Hard. Into jagged pieces in my chest. I bit down hard on my lip, but a tear emerged from my eye and fell gracelessly down my cheek. I quickly removed it, unaccepting of these sudden tears. I’d faced a near death experience and yet I was emotional over
this
? I had some serious psychological issues.

             
“Keep going,” I demanded quietly.

             
He exhaled hesitantly. “Sara –”

             
“Keep going, Remy.”

             
“When she got clean, she knew she’d treated you wrong. Like I said, what Rita just said was an overreaction. Still, Joanne wanted nothin’ to do with you. Wanted only memories of when you were a baby, back before you remembered her. Your mother was very fucked up, Sara. She was very volatile.”

             
“Why did she want you to look after me then?”

             
“She owed it to you. Wanted you never to have to struggle. There was love there, I’m sure. She just… She just couldn’t look at you the way a mother looked at her child. That’s the fuckin’ truth for you.”

             
“And what was the real reason you never contacted me after she died?”

             
He tensed. Maybe he was surprised I’d caught on to his lie. “She… She removed you from her emergency contacts. Left everything for… for Rita. I didn’t want you to have to know that at the time. Didn’t think it was fair of her to do that to you. Thought that would break you more than her death.”

             
“Oh.” My fears had been confirmed. She’d grown attached to Rita and wanted nothing to do with me. Left everything to her. And me? I was left with nothing. How does one take that kind of news?

             
In my heart of hearts I always knew she never loved me the way a mother loved their child. I tried so hard to convince myself that it was her alcoholism that distorted her emotions and made her cold and unfeeling. It wasn’t. Now I knew why. She’d been raped and left with me. The trauma would have been extensive if she’d never been able to look at me like I was half of her. It explained so much now that I reflected on my childhood.

             
“I’d like to be left alone,” I whispered.

             
Time for me crash and burn. To see how strong I really am. To stop this weird dependency thing I’d developed for Remy. Running away from emotions never worked. They had to catch up sometime, and if it was going to change me forever then… well, what the fuck did I have to lose anyway?

Jaxon

The text message was a godsend. He was losing his mind in the unknown. He needed to be back in the loop.
Perched on the step of his mother’s house, he read the text over and over again until his mind could bear it no more.

There was an attack on her. Explicit direction carried out for her kill. She’s back at the clubhouse and safe
. R won’t let her out of his sight. She won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Afraid you have little chance of seeing her. She’s clung onto him like she’s been on her own for some time. Wish I could tell you more but everyone’s in the dark.

             
An attack? Jaxon gripped the phone so tight, the corner of the screen cracked. He inhaled sharply, trying to calm every raging cell in his body. If Damien hadn’t been able to find out where Remy had hidden her, how the hell did this assigned killer do it? Something wasn’t right and he needed to find out what.

             
He raked both hands through his hair and then he hastily replied.

I need you to do something
.

*****

Jaxon rested his back flat on his two inch thick bed, staring up at the cement degraded ceiling. “Fish” they’d called him; a derogative word that was passed around to new prisoners. They sized him up and he’d never felt so alone in his life.

             
How the fuck had his life turned to this? His chest felt like it’d been through the fucking crusher. He stared on in the darkness, and all he could see was her face. Why did she do it? Why… Why did she walk away? What did he do that was so wrong? He rubbed his face and shut his burning eyes.

             
He shouldn’t have left her that night. He should have stayed and he should have shut his fucking mouth and let her have her raging fit so long as it meant he could hold her. He shouldn’t have pushed her, shouldn’t have demanded her to talk, shouldn’t have goaded her…

             
His body shuddered as he fought to suppress the ache. He shouldn’t have left. If he’d stayed… Somehow he knew none of this would have happened if he’d just fucking stayed!

             
Now look at him; a pathetic nobody clinging onto a girl that hadn’t bothered to check on him once, and yet he was still using her as a form of strength to get out of this goddamn forsaken dump of a place.

             
“Have you heard from her?” he’d asked Lucinda in the visiting room.

             
Lucinda shook her head. “No, Jaxon. I haven’t.”

             
She watched his fists clench together hard with a troubled look on her face. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

             
Suppressing the ache, he shook his head. “I don’t even know what happened, Mom. I don’t even fucking know. She’d been acting strange the last few months. Was going on and on about being independent and shit. I was suddenly always in her way, and then she’d started accusing me of shit, like she didn’t trust me. I tried, Mom. I really fucking tried.”

             
Lucinda didn’t respond for a few moments. She suddenly looked weighed down by something; a memory perhaps.

             
“If you hear from her,” Jaxon said, sounding more desperate than he intended, “Please, Mom, let me know. Tell her to come to me. Please.”

             
“Of course I will, Jaxon. Of course.”

             
But his mother always returned with no word of her and a shake of her head that had his heart scrambling for safety. It was falling into a bottomless pit. He’d never felt so hopeless locked away when he could have been out there searching for her. Had something happened to her? Fuck. That was the worst thought he could think of.

             
He had to focus on the now and what needed to be done in these walls. He had to act fast. They were piranhas and they were going to feast on him.

             
He was virtually powerless and had tried every single day to keep to himself. Unfortunately, for the good looking fish, being left alone was not something the convicts were interested in. Day one and he had his face smashed so bad he couldn’t see out of his right eye for six days, and the worst part was he didn’t know who had done it. He’d been jumped from behind in the tank room where the densely populated crowd of inmates did nothing but try and start a riot.

             
He knew early on that to survive this he needed to be part of a gang. They were everywhere and they stood for something he was desperate for: power and protection.

             
But before he could even be looked at, he needed to prove himself. And having had the childhood he did where fights were the norm, he knew the only way to come out alive was to instil the same harsh attitude for violence.

             
He had to be a fighter.

Seven

I spent tw
o days locked up in Remy’s room sleeping and idly staring at the fascinating ceiling when I wasn’t. Couldn’t eat, either, which drove Remy up the wall. He was constantly placing trays of food on the night table, but I couldn’t for the life of me swallow a bite.

             
After my two days of solitude, I emerged like a groundhog out of its hole and into the daylight. The bikers had conglomerated around the bar area chatting up a storm about cars and the “scamming locals” that needed sorting out.

             
Remy was in the back, silently observing with a petit blonde by his side. She was saying something to him and he was staring down at her, vaguely looking interested. I knew this look. It was the I-really-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-what-you’re-saying-but-I’m-too-nice-to-say-that-to-your-face look. Remy was a sweet guy when he wasn’t staring bullet holes into your head.

             
I liked how quickly he perked up when he noticed me approaching him. I was hesitant at first, not wanting to be intrusive. I didn’t know my boundaries. Was free roaming okay? Judging by the happy surprise in him, I’d say it was. He nodded at me to come to him and I did, stopping right before him. The petit blonde was rattling on about how her car tyres’ treading wasn’t up to par and then stopped abruptly when she noticed me.

             
“You’re out of your cave,” Remy stated with a ghost of a smile on his face.

             
I shrugged. “The ceiling was getting boring to watch.”

             
“Probably watched the plaster right off of it, huh?”

             
I smiled timidly and looked nervously down at my fingers. Why was being around him in a social circle suddenly so strange? I’d been so used to having him in private that this kind of interaction was unsettling.

             
“You gonna introduce me or what, Reaper?” piped the blonde.

             
Remy sighed in annoyance. “Sara, this is Darcy. Darcy this is Sara. Darcy is Prez’s niece and Barge’s old lady.”

             
I awkwardly extended my hand. Do old ladies shake as a greeting? She ignored my hand and hugged me instead. The hug took me off guard, and I looked like a terrified child petting a lion.

             
“You’re Felix’s granddaughter. One of us. It’s so good to have you here, Sara,” she said into my hair.

             
“Thanks, Darcy.”

             
The hug had quieted the room down, and when she pulled away, I noted that all the men had turned to look at us.

             
“Introduce the rest of us, Reap,” said an attractive blonde haired man.

             
Remy did, and they got up front and personal about it, looming around me during introductions with unconcealed curiosity.

             
It would take me a couple weeks to learn their names. There was Fritz and Logan. Fritz was a thirty something year old man with long dark hair and an unkempt beard; he stunk of alcohol and probably lived off of it. Logan was a gorgeous blonde man with piercing green eyes and almost as solidly built as Remy. These two I would later learn were the Sergeants at Arms in the club and Remy’s closest friends.

             
The next to be introduced was Barge, and he was a sloppy looking fat man with a heavy beard and beady dark eyes. He was the Treasurer in the club, and he was also petit Darcy’s husband. Talk about shocker with that one…

             
A shaggy red-haired old man by the name of Wilson was next up. He was the secretary of the club, answering calls, setting up meetings and reporting to the President. You never saw him without a cigar in his hand, and if it wasn’t in his mouth, he was usually telling the most crude, sexually explicit jokes that disgusted even the men.

             
The rest were patch members: Tray, Russo, Finn and Vince, all young looking guys with errands of their own. They all took the piss out of the prospects that were currently running around serving everybody drinks. One in particular was a twiggy young man they derogatorily called Broom. I think his real name was Steve.

             
I was surprised to find Frank was there, too, hovering in the background. The businessman who’d bought Mom’s furniture had sometimes invaded my thoughts. I got the impression he’d known her somehow. He didn’t really greet me. He just watched me with an unhappy look on his face.

             
Then, of course, there was Manny – though everybody just called him Prez. The man didn’t have a friendly bone in his body, but I suppose intimidation is key if you’re the president of a testosterone fuelled biker club, so I tried not to take it personally. I didn’t like being watched by his iridescent blue eyes. It made me self-conscious and a little afraid, especially when he wore his frown like a permanent feature.

             
I kept to Remy’s side and he eventually led us to a round table where he plopped down on the chair and forced me in his lap. There were a ridiculous amount of looks our way, curious eyes lingering over the muscled arm around my waist. It’s not that I was uncomfortable sitting on him, it’s more I read into the message he was sending to everyone around us. That I was his. In my heart I knew I wasn’t. But what choice did I have? It was a difficult situation that would have humiliated him if I’d tried to get away.

             
As the night progressed into loud music and alcohol, I quickly learned that the men I’d grown up fearing and staying away from were normal everyday people. Yeah, there was more to it than that, but you could see they were bound by a brotherhood that went far deeper than running a club, doing illegal shit, and riding motorcycles. It was family. There was love here.

             
It was easy to sit back and admire it, and after being so alone for so long, a little bit of me wanted to be part of it, too. I wanted to feel that kind of love and be welcomed into the family. The allure was deeply present. I was falling further into the rabbit hole where a fucked up yet amazingly soulful reality existed. Only I knew deep down it wasn’t where I belonged, but desperation made me want to try.

             
By evening, a crowd of people flooded into the clubhouse. A handful of them were hangarounds looking for a place in the club. The others were scantily clad women clearly in search of a bikie to root. They were the regulars who already had their guys picked out. I went tense watching a few them look around the room in search of a particular face. Any second I was waiting for Remy to be approached by his own regular.

             
It’s not my business if he wants a woman,
I thought. He hadn’t pressed me at all for anything sexual, thank God. I couldn’t think of anything more awkward than having to turn him down if he’d made a move. After a while I was paranoid that his wanting more from me was something I’d conjured up in my head. Although it gave me relief at the possibility, I knew how small it was. He’d put me on his lap, dammit. That was statement enough. But whether he was a faithful type of guy or not, I didn’t know.

             
I was introduced to a couple other old ladies: Dayna who belonged to Manny, and Tessa who belonged to Wilson. They never shut up. As they talked to me, Remy left to join with the men around the bar, sidling up next to Logan and Fritz. I discreetly noticed a handful of women were looking over at him, and they slowly eased their way around the three men.

             
Not my business,
my brain reiterated. I was in love with another man. I shouldn’t be feeling anything for Remy. It was wrong. Purely needy emotions based on my four weeks of solitude and his undying attention to me...that he suddenly wasn’t giving me.

             
I excused myself from Tessa and Dayna and went to the toilet. There I sat for a long period of time listening in on the voices flooding from all areas of the clubhouse. An absurd amount of giggles from an absurd amount of women had me rolling my eyes. Just what did these women find so appealing about sleeping with men who clearly put them in the root-zone? They were nothing more than a no strings attached fuck.
Just like what you were to Daniel
, I bitterly piped in. Wow, I just totally got owned… by myself. Could there be anything sadder?

             
I hadn’t thought about Daniel in a long while. Not since the night Remy had told me what a deceiving little snake he was. I wished that whole arrangement had never happened. I was a stupidly naïve girl, but that was another lifetime ago, and I was changing into someone else all over again.

             
I left the bathroom after some time. When I re-entered the room, I found a hell of a lot more women centred around Remy and Logan. Fritz was nowhere to be seen. With Remy’s back to me, I didn’t know if he was staring at the women in front of him dancing provocatively, or at Logan. The second a manicured hand from a beautiful brunette trailed her fingers down his arm, I decided to get away.

             
I hurried up the second level and to Remy’s room. The music was muffled up here, but the sounds of sex were loud as hell from a couple rooms. This was obviously the not so tasteful side of the Jackals.

             
Inside the room, I stood with my back against the door feeling like Ugly Sara all over again; lost and alone even when I had been surrounded by people. How the fuck did that make any sense?
He left you to be with his friends and those girls…
I wanted to shut my brain up. Stupid, needy Sara.

             
I pulled out some clothes from the dresser that Remy had placed for me. They weren’t over the top, thank God. Just normal, oversized bum jammies I felt comfortable in. I unbuttoned my jeans and went to pull them down, but a crinkly sound had me stopping abruptly. The second I stopped moving, the noise went away. So I tried again, pulling my jeans down and hearing, once more, a crinkly noise.

             
I placed my hand over the pockets of my jeans. The right one bulged noticeably and crinkled loudly when I pushed against it. Bewildered, I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. I’d never felt the bulge or heard the noise before in the last few hours. Where had the paper come from?

             
I turned on the light and hastily unwrapped the neatly folded up little square. Once it was opened, I stared down at a phone number… but my heart raced at the line beneath it.

Call this number, Tiny.

             
Tiny.
My eyes immediately watered and my hands shook. Only one person ever called me Tiny. Was it him? Oh, God, it had to be him!

             
My body was racing with anxiety and purpose. I looked around the room, unable to think rationally and seeking only one thing: a phone!

             
The angels of mercy were smiling down at me tonight. Remy had left his cell phone behind on the dresser. I grabbed it and rushed into the bathroom, locking it shut behind me. Booming a chorus of hope within me, my heart roared like thunder in my chest.

             
I shakily dialled each number and then put the phone to my ear. Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips together and waited. It rang six times – six unfathomably long, dreadful times.

             
Then it picked up.

             
I didn’t hear anything on the other end, not even background noise. For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence with me holding my breath as I waited anxiously for the voice I wanted to hear.

             
Still, there was nothing.

             
Why wasn’t he talking?
Maybe he’s waiting for you.

             
“Jaxon?” I whispered, feeling hot tears run down my cheeks.

             
A loud exhale sounded from the other end. “Sara.”

             
That voice! That beautiful voice! I’d forgotten the beauty of it.

             
My heart burst through my chest. “Oh, my God. I-I…” I didn’t know what to say. It’d felt like eons since I’d last heard from him.

             
“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

             
“I’m-I’m…” I tried to breathe through my stammers.

             
“You were attacked. I know all about that, Tiny. I need to know if you’re okay. Did he hurt you?” The concern in his voice only brook on more tears. “Sara, speak to me.”

             
“I’m okay.”

             
Another exhale. “Fuck, I was so fucking worried, Sara.”

             
“I miss you so much.” The words began pouring right out of me. “You need to get me out of here. I need you so much, Jaxon. Help me get out of here. I don’t think he’ll let me go. Please, please, please, please…”

             
There were a few long moments of silence on his end. Why was he being so quiet? Quiet was never fucking good. I suddenly had a very bad feeling in my chest.

             
“Sara,” his voice, no longer filled with concern, was now firm. “There was a deal made–”

             
“I know all about it,” I interrupted. “It’s okay. We can find a way, right? You can find a way and we’ll get out of this and–”

             
“You were going to leave.”

             
His words knocked the air right out of me. I stared speechlessly ahead.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck no.

             
“The crash was two blocks passed the apartment. Explain that to me, Sara.” When I didn’t, he pressed. “Explain to me why you weren’t dropped off at the apartment.”

             
I rubbed my eyes and sighed. Honesty is sometimes a bitch, right? “I was going to go home. I chose it because… because I’d found out what really goes on in your club and I didn’t want to be passed around.”

             
“You really think I would have allowed that to happen to you, Sara?” Disbelief emerged in his voice. “You don’t think I’d have protected you from that kind of thing?”

             
“Would you have been able to?” I rebutted. Damien had made it clear there was no getting out of it. Once you’re in, you’re their property. It had been painted pretty black and white to me.