Fabio's Remorse (Hell Raiders MC Book 5) (13 page)

24

Justine

I felt like an idiot sitting in that stupid closet, but I couldn't bring myself to leave it, either. After I fainted, Dad woke me, and he and the Officer tried to get me to wait, but I went to my room. I had to see what they did, how they'd chosen to violate me this time.

When I went in the door, I tried to distance myself, see it as if it belonged to someone else. That didn't work so well. Each new horror jumped out at me, exactly the way they wanted.

The first thing I noticed was my panties and bras. They'd been pulled out of the drawer and scattered around. Then I got a closer look. My bras were slashed to pieces and my panties ripped apart at the crotch. Just like that night. But when I saw my bed, terror chilled my veins so I couldn't move, only stand there and look. A dried, slimy mess of semen covered my pillow and a pair of panties tossed in the middle.

When I stopped vomiting finally, I ran to the guest room and locked myself in, and wedged myself into the closet, beside boxes of holiday decorations and seasonal clothing. Thank God the police officer had returned my gun after he realized I was no threat.

I sat there for hours, holding my gun, waiting for them. When they came back, I was going to shoot them. My parents took turns trying to talk me out of the closet, but I never wavered, and eventually, they decided to give me time and space to come to terms, as my mother put it.

Long after the house went quiet for the night, Sam and Hudson barked outside, where my mother still forced them to stay. I panicked. What if those men had returned? The dogs quieted soon, but still, terror kept me cowering in the closet.

At some point, I remembered Fabio's text. Call if I needed anything. The facts I had collected about him began to run through my mind. International security firm. Imposing. Strong. Biker. If anyone could protect me, he could.

So I caved. I called him.

I don't know what I expected, but I didn't think he would come, not so late.

But the deep rumble of male voices came through the floor vent, and I recognized my Dad's rumble from long familiarity. I thought he went to bed long ago.

After a moment, heavy boots thumped on the stairs and in the hall. The guest room door gave way easily, despite the lock. "Justine? Come on out of there. Talk to me."

His voice felt so familiar, so safe, even though he'd been away so long. I ached to have him hold me. "I can't."

"Your dad told me what happened. You're safe now, no one's going to hurt you." The floor creaked as he seated himself outside the closet door. "I'm here now, and no one is getting through me."

Shame coursed through me and heated my face, quickly followed by hopelessness. "You can't stop them. Police all over the state have been trying, and still, they do it."

"What do you mean?"

The helpless tears came again. I couldn't tell him, couldn't have him hate me worse than he already did. And even if I wanted to, words refused to move past the choking sobs.

"Jus, baby, open the door, or I will." The old nickname fell from his lips as easily as it used to, and broke my heart.

I allowed those men to take that away from me, and so much more. I allowed them to hurt the man I loved. Guilt and shame combined with the weakness in my muscles, brought on by hours of crouching in a small space, and kept me frozen in place.

The floor creaked again as he moved. "You heard me, Justine, I'm opening the door." The knob rattled for a moment, metal scraped over metal, then the lock clicked and the door swung open. "Here, come out of there and talk to me."

Strong hands closed around my arms and lifted me free of the tight space. He slipped the gun from my numb fingers, and lifted me into his arms. Before I knew it, he settled himself on the bed, back against the headboard, and cradled me in his lap.

"Tell me what's going on."

The security he offered so easily broke me. I cried into his chest, grieving for everything we lost. Eventually, the tears slowed, and I started to talk. He didn't interrupt, just listened, stroking my back, patient, waiting.

I told him everything. All of it. How badly it hurt when they pushed their penises inside me, taking what was his. How terrified I was. How they came back, tracking me down over and over, and using phone calls to force me back to that night. How they were attacking other women, and my overwhelming shame for not telling. Every bit of it.

When I stopped talking, I sat there in his lap, utterly drained and defenseless. Shattered.

He stayed silent for so long I started to think he'd fallen asleep. Then he started to shake, his whole body trembling. Suddenly he clutched me tighter, and this big, strong man wept. He cried for everything taken from us.

Finally, the storm passed. We sat there, holding each other, devastated, but together. "Baby, they will never touch you again. I promise. I will do what-the-fuck-ever it takes to keep you safe. Fuck, I'm so sorry I left."

His words moved something inside me, a heavy stone I had carried since the attack. The anger I'd held against him for leaving me alone dissolved with his apology. "I know. I am, too."

"That's why you sent the letter."

I nodded against his chest. "I couldn't face it. They took everything from me, from us."

"No, baby, that's where you're wrong. You survived. They took a lot, but your heart still beats. Everything else, we can rebuild. It's all still there, just waiting. If you're willing to try." His chest rose and fell under my head, silently promising the strength and comfort I had needed for so long.

Was he right? Could we have us again? Did I have the strength to try? "I want to try." The words came unbidden, before I even realized the thought. They were out there, in the air, changing things between us.

"Will you come back to my sister's house with me? I don't want to let you out of my sight, but the kids had a rough evening, too. They need me to be there when they wake up."

Guilt made me pull back and look up into his face. "I'm sorry. I'll be okay. Go to them." How could I have asked him to leave those poor children on such a day?

His hands came up to gently cup my face. "No. I need you near me, Jus. I can't take the chance of them getting near you again. I can keep you safe there." He looked at me for so long, I started to get uncomfortable. "Please, come with me?"

Unable to resist the need that made his voice tremble, I nodded. "Okay. I'll come."

His mouth curved into a hint of a smile. "Thank you. Let's get some stuff together for you, for a couple of days. You'll be safe at the house. My Brother, Crank, is there, too, and he'll help make sure no one can get to you."

I nodded and he helped me stand, then led me to my room. Fear of the nastiness I would face inside that door made me cringe and hold back, but he gently encouraged me onward. Inside, the worst of the mess had been cleared away. Someone, probably my mother, had stripped my bed, and gathered up the things they left scattered around. The room still held that slimy feel that threatened to cover me again, but I managed to gather up some clothes and stuff them into a bag.

Fabio took the bag and led me downstairs to where my Dad still sat in the living room. "Mr. Carson, she's coming with me for a couple of days. I'll make sure she's safe."

"Thank you, Caleb." Dad stood and offered a handshake, then turned to take me gently into his arms. "You let him take care of you, sweetheart. I love you."

More tears started to pool in my eyes, but for once, I managed to blink them away. "I love you, too, Daddy. Tell mom I love her, and thank her for me?"

He nodded. "Okay, get out of here. I'm going to get some rest."

Outside, Fabio led me to his motorcycle, helped me with a helmet, and showed me how to climb on behind him. He went slowly as I clung to him, terrified of falling off, and exhilarated by the sense of freedom. Only a few minutes later, he pulled us into the driveway at his sister's house, and led me inside as the sky lightened with morning.

25

Fabio

If I thought I knew about destruction before, I had no clue. Nothing could compare to what Justine's words did to me. I felt everything she described. Every horror. Every violation. Every pain. Finally.

Remorse threatened to swallow me. I should have followed my instincts. I
knew
something about that letter rang false. But I let my anger, and my insecurities, get the better of me. I failed us both when it mattered most.

The price she paid to get through all that absolutely shattered her, and me along with her. The unimaginable damage of that one crime boggled the mind. If those men had chosen another target that night, I would have come back home and married Justine, right on schedule. By now, we might have had kids.

Maybe it stemmed from selfishness, but I needed to extract every single moment we missed from those men's hides. I needed them to feel even a fraction of the pain Justine and I suffered. I needed to shatter their worlds and leave them alive, broken shells of who they had been before. Just like us.

How might things have been if she'd told me back then? I had no idea how the younger me might have reacted. I preferred to think I would have been understanding, but I feared I might have sought to blame her. Things were pretty black and white for me, before the letter. Life taught me a few things since then. True black and white existed only in a vacuum.

Being around the club girls, some of whom came from rough circumstances, gave me a new understanding of exactly how vulnerable a woman was in our society. They carried nirvana around, right between their legs, and men would do absolutely anything to possess it, even for only a few moments. And when a man committed a crime for a few minutes of that heaven, society often placed the blame squarely on the woman. So many chose to bear the burden of sexual assault alone, and try to survive it.

I couldn't blame them, after seeing how the justice system worked for them. Or rather, failed them. Hell, even when it worked out, and the rapist went to jail, the sentence amounted to nothing compared to what the victim lived with. Reporting often unleashed a storm of criticism, and sometimes guilt. In the same circumstances, I would probably keep my mouth shut, too.

So the grown up me accepted what Justine said, took it all in, and built an irrepressible fury against the men who hurt us. While I vowed to keep her safe, I also made another, more sinister vow, to rain Hell Fire on their heads for what they'd done.

The Hell Raiders had an established method of dealing with rapists and pedophiles. We had the chance to refine our technique, on a large scale, in the aftermath of what happened with Trip's ol' lady, when we rained all kinds of Hell over the Saxons MC. That prolonged bloodbath also led to our term, Hell Fire.

So I brought Justine to my sister's house, where I could ensure her safety while I put things in motion. "Let's get you something to eat. You'll rest better."

She turned away. "I shouldn't be here. I'm sorry." By the time she reached the door, I was there, blocking her retreat.

"Jus, baby, I'm here now. You're not facing it alone anymore." It took everything I had not to put my hands on her. "I won't let them take you away from me again." The second thoughts came as no surprise. "We can talk about the future later. For now, it's all about keeping you safe. I failed you before. I won't again."

Allowing someone, me, to help her was uncharted territory, and it had her running scared. "I can't face them again. I just…I can't."

"I know, baby, and you're not going to. Let me help." I refused to think of the implications.

After a long moment, she nodded. "I'll try." Her voice was so low, I barely heard her. But she allowed me to lead her to the table, and ate the ham sandwich I gave her from the tray someone brought after the funeral.

I waited, watching her carefully. She stayed painfully alert, gaze continually roving, body poised for fight or flight. How the fuck had people missed this? It was more pronounced now, following the break-in, but her behavior looked habitual. I'd seen it before, in people who lived under constant threat, in dire fear for their lives. Anyone near her on a regular basis should have spotted this shit.

"You should rest some. I'll make sure you're safe."

The moment she surrendered, and decided to trust me with her safety, I knew she still loved me. Something moved in my chest, and I refused to take a closer look. No matter what happened with this, I had to be careful, had to guard myself.

As soon as I had Justine settled on the sofa, and she dozed off, I made the call. The time didn't matter. Badger answered on the second ring.

"I need my Brothers, Badger." I gave him an abbreviated version of what was going on. "I need them ready for Hell Fire."

"Understood. I'm making the call now. They'll be there sometime tonight." He ended the call.

With those simple words, I felt better. With Hell Raiders at my back, vengeance was a foregone conclusion. It was our code, who we were. Fuck with one Hell Raider, the rest will come at you. Other clubs claimed the same code, and a few even lived by it, but we saw it a little differently.

The bond of brotherhood among the Hell Raiders gave us the strength and courage to go after obstacles no one else would even dream of attempting. These days, where other clubs operated in fear of someone rolling on them and turning evidence, we had complete confidence in our Brothers. And now that bond would bring my Brothers to my defense.

I made a quick check to be sure everything was still locked up, texted Mr. Carson to let him know we'd made it safely, then wedged my body around Justine's on the sofa. Despite the numbing exhaustion, my brain buzzed with questions, none of which had answers.

I had my woman back in my life. I could hold her in my arms, keep her safe. Now all I had to do was pray like fuck I made the right choices to either bring us back together, or at least allow us to survive.

***

"Fahv-bioooo."
Tyler's whisper, complete with spit in my ear, woke me.

I winced. I had no plans for this scenario. "Hey, li'l man, 'sup." Cramped muscles rebelled at the position I'd forced them into. Trying not to wake Justine, I extracted myself and sat up.

Blue eyes wide as hell, he pointed to Justine. "Who ares
herrr
?"

"She's my friend." Hopefully that would settle his curiosity. I changed the topic. "How about some breakfast? I bet you're hungry." Every fucking joint cracked and creaked, but I made it to my feet, and headed for the kitchen with Tyler dancing circles around me.

"Why's her here?" He climbed into his chair, waiting expectantly.

I considered my answer while I got out a bowl, cereal, and milk. "She got really scared, so she called me. We're going to take care of her for a few days."

Blue eyes blinked slowly, then went even larger. "But her's a growned up!" His world clearly placed adults above the threat of fear.

"Yeah, li'l man, she is." I poured the cereal. "Even grown-ups get scared sometimes, and need someone to take care of them." Giving him that information felt like a sort of betrayal of his trust. To him, if something scared an adult, it must be truly awful. With the situation he was in, he needed comfort, not more uncertainty and fear.

Milk splashed over the edge of the bowl as he helped pour while he digested that information. "Ares a bad guys scared her?" He seemed to mix words up more when something worried him, or confused him. Once he went back to school, I needed to check with his teacher on that. I had no idea if he spoke normally for his age, or not, but if there was a problem, it needed to be addressed.

Should I answer him? Or try and direct his attention to something else. Yeah. Truth, and all that good shit. "Yeah, Tyler, a bad guy hurt her, and he says he's going to again. We're going to keep her safe."

He ate, thinking some more, while I started the coffee. "Can we go to the park?"

The sudden change of subject left my head spinning for a second. "Yeah, we might be able to swing that later on. You like the park?"

His enthusiastic nod gave all the answer I needed. "The swings is fun. And the rock wall."

Fuck, I might need IV coffee. Or Jack. This kid was nothing but a bundle of energy, and I suspected this was only a glimpse of it. "Then we'll have to make it a date. Maybe we can stop for ice cream, too." Something told me I was going to seriously regret that impulsive comment.

Tyler's delighted squeal confirmed it. The way he rushed through his cereal scared me. "When we's going?"

I glanced at my watch. Just after nine a.m. "How about we shoot for this afternoon?"

"This day?" His eyebrows went up.

"Yeah, after lunch." The absolute last place I ever pictured myself was a park, watching a kid play on the swings. A couple of the other Raiders had kids, and juggled family and club in a delicate balancing act. I never imagined myself doing that.

"Okay!" He picked up his bowl and sucked his milk down. We cleaned up, though Tyler's enthusiastic
help
seemed more of a hindrance. Once we finished, I helped him get a game started on a tablet he apparently used regularly. I poured my second cup of coffee as Crank came downstairs, looking like something Death warmed over, then sent back.

Tyler looked up, vibrating with energy. "Crank! We's going to the park!"

Crank rubbed bleary eyes, trying to focus. "Oh, yeah?" His gaze swept the living room, and landed on Justine still sleeping on the sofa. He came on over to the kitchen and poured his own coffee. "That last night's emergency?" His lifted chin indicated Justine.

"Yeah. Justine."

He recognized the name, and knew enough of my story to be alarmed. "Fuck, man!" He shook his head. "This a good idea?"

I shrugged. "Maybe? I found out some shit last night. Called Badger and the Brothers to bring Hell Fire." Good idea, or bad, it no longer mattered at this point.

"Fuck!" He sucked in a deep breath. "A'ight then. Let's do this shit, and give you a chance to sort things out."

And that right there, that acceptance and willingness to break down the gates of Hell with me, was why I loved my Brothers. Right or wrong, Crank had my back for the long haul.