Merciless Ride (18 page)

“Momma needs me. I gotta get home, Shooter.”
 

 

Seeing Tessie absolutely desperate to be at her mom’s side tugs at a place deep in my soul. I never thought I would feel like this again. I want to take all her hurts away.
 

While I don’t agree with her decision to keep Axel from Rex, if I tell Rex, I add to her pain right now. If I don’t tell him, on the other hand, I’m betraying my brother.
 

Right when Tessie gets home to her mom, I’m called to sermon by Tripp. Leaving Tessie my car, I climb on my bike and head to the meeting. She has her car back, but I feel better if she drives mine. I can’t leave to pick her up if she gets stuck right now. Should she need to take her mom to the hospital, she needs my car.
 

Everything is piling up, not just Tessie’s needs. I have other responsibilities. I need to go in to work soon. Ryder has two cars waiting for me. I have taken extra days off to be around for Tessie; as a result, I am backed up at work. Ryder is understanding, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t have a job to do.
 

Filing into the sermon, we are short a few guys who are on a run for the club. More importantly, they are on a ride to intercept a transport the Ghosts arranged.
 

“Update time. Keep your eyes open, boys. We’ve lost the Ghosts four affiliations. They are rerouting some of their dealings, which means we need to be proactive in setting up our alliances. We have disposed of their product in two shipments they will be picking up in the next few days. If they are coming to the South, we are gonna squeeze them until they hand over Shep. Shooter, we need you to call your guys in the Regulators to keep an eye on those South Florida transports. We can’t have enough allies and extra eyes right now.”
 

“Affirmative. I’ll grab a burner and contact Ice.”
 

When you survive together, literally putting your life in the hands of your military brother, you build a bond that will survive both time and distance. While Bowie left the Army to go back to the Savage Outlaws MC, my buddies Ice and Hammer started their own motorcycle club in South Beach. The Regulators are a badass bunch of no nonsense, ex-military bikers that now run Southern Florida.
 

Ice is exactly what his name says he is—cold. He is a lethal man with a mind for business and skirting the law. Hammer, his VP, has an iron fist and a name for himself in the underground world. Hands down, I would trust any one of those guys to give me correct information and watch my club’s back.
 

Tripp fills us in with the regular club business before dismissing us. Then, grabbing a burner, I make the necessary call to my ex-teammates and head home to Tessie.
 

Walking in, I round the corner to the kitchen and stop in my tracks. Tessie is at the table with Axel. She has those little chocolate morsels lined up in front of her and her son, a pan of raw cookies on the other side.
 

“Okay, Axel, if you have four chocolate chips and you add two more, how many chocolate chips total will we be putting on the top of the cookie?” Tessie asks her son.
 

“One, two, three, four… I eat one” —which he proceeds to do before continuing— “five, six. We have six chocolate chips on top of that one, Momma.”
 

I smile at the sight before me.
 

“You didn’t share with me,” Tessie jokes.
 

“Momma, you ate like half the bag mixing the cookie dough. You gotta save some for Gigi,” Axel defends.
 

“Axel, a woman can never have too much chocolate,” Tessie informs her son.
 

“Always remember that, Axel,” I add, making my way farther into the room. “It applies to all women, and it may get your ass—I mean, butt, outta trouble one day.”
 

When Tessie laughs, my heart skips a beat. It is the most beautiful sound my ears have ever heard. I’ve never, in all the years at the bar, heard her laugh. Watching her with her son, the light in her eyes, I want nothing more than to protect what the two of them share.
 

“You’re like the smartest dude ever, mister,” Axel greets me, laughing alongside his mom.
 

“Nah, just observant. Learn early, chocolate is man’s best friend, not a damn dog.”
 

“Momma says damn is a yucky word. I’m not allowed to say it. She says it a lot when she stubs her toe and stuff.”
 

If I am going to be around Axel, I need to work on my language. I have a feeling he will stay on top of me about it, though.
 

My mind goes back to Rex. Would he be willing to change to be a better influence for this little boy? I am unable to answer that.
 

Tessie starts to clear the table and puts the cookies in the oven. Watching her bend over, I can’t help wanting to stand behind her. The luscious curve of her ass is one that other women should envy. Her hips are those of a woman who has carried a child and are made for a man to grip as he bends her over the bed, the table, and anywhere else he can have her.
 

Fuck, I can’t think like this. Calming my chub from becoming a tent in my jeans, I try to think of kittens, turtles, hell, snakes, spiders.
 

“Momma says you’re gonna be around for a while. What’s your name, mister?”
 

His voice is the distraction I need from my lustful thoughts of Tessie. “Name’s Andy, but my friends call me Shooter.”
 

“Shooter, huh? Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
 

“Yeah,” I answer simply.
 

“Awesome,” Axel replies with excitement. “Maybe we can be friends after all.”
 

Maybe we can, Axel, maybe we can. If I could get your mom to be in such easy agreement, it would make my life simpler.
 

 

War
 

 

Mom’s disease leaves me feeling helpless. I watch while she fights to be the woman she once was. I sit back, unable to help her as she faces the reality of her limitations. She has good days and bad. We hold tightly to the good outweighing the bad. She wants so desperately to be the pillar of strength she was for me growing up.
 

I wish I could find a way to show her she is stronger now to me than ever before. To know that she doesn’t give up, she doesn’t just rollover and let MS win, that makes her tougher than nails. I can’t say I wouldn’t succumb to the comforts of my bed and never get out if I were her. Hell, it takes everything I have to go out and get Axel to and from school some days.
 

Work, oh work, a battlefield in my mind. I can’t bring myself to go back to Ruthless. Living off my money from Brinkley’s is fine as long as we stay with mom.
 

She worked hard to pay off the house. Her car is as outdated as mine, but she doesn’t drive much these days because the numbness in her legs gets so bad. Therefore, thanks to my mom’s forethought and financial planning, I am able to survive on a part-time waitress’s income. I have had to excuse myself a few times from work and had to leave twice because the anxiety was too much.
 

Right now, I am sitting in Shooter’s car outside the diner, waiting for my shift to start. I should go inside, but being around people doesn’t appeal to me right now. I am not a social butterfly on a regular basis; however, since the night of the attack, I find it even more difficult to associate with anyone outside of my house.
 

Push through it, Tessie,
I coax myself. If Momma can wake up every day and still fight to do regular activities, I can get inside and serve lunch to these customers.
 

The rumble of a Harley startles me. Instinctively, I look around, my pulse racing. Shooter starts his bike daily and the noise doesn’t faze me, but away from home, it sends my blood pressure skyrocketing.
 

My breathing is unsteady and too fast as the panic attack seizes me. Even knowing there’s no way Shep could be here, I’m unable to calm down, my body trembling. With sweaty palms, I pick up my phone and dial the first person I think of.
 

“Tessie,” Shooter answers on the first ring.
 

I can’t get the words out. I can’t catch my breath. No words escape, no sound comes out except my heavy, rapid breathing.
 

“Exhale, baby,” he coaxes. “Inhale, Tessie. Calm down, baby. Exhale,” his voice soothes me.
 

I hear the phone shuffle. “Ryder, I gotta take off, man,” Shooter says to someone in the background.
 

“Inhale again. Deep, slow breaths, baby. I’m on my way.”
 

“No,” I manage to squeak out.
 

“What happened, Tessie?”
 

“I… I… I,” I stutter, unable to calm my breathing enough to talk.
 

Blowing out a breath, I try to settle enough to stop him from coming here.
 

“Inhale, baby. It’s okay, Tessie. Just stay on the phone with me.”
 

Dammit! I am so frustrated. Why do I allow myself to depend on him? How does he calm me so easily?
 

“I’m better. No need to come,” I manage to get out, even if the strain in my voice gives away my struggle to settle down.
 

“Look around, Tessie. There should be a black sedan near you in the parking lot at Brinkley’s. Boomer is watching out for you. You’re safe, baby. Please calm down and tell me what has you so upset.”
 

After a few minutes, the trembling stops, and I am back in control of my emotions. Looking around, I easily find and maintain eye contact with the black sedan. Only now I feel ridiculously stupid for getting so worked up and then reaching out to Shooter.
 

“I heard a bike, and I don’t know… I thought about him. It just got to me. I’m sorry for bothering you with this. Oh, my God, I’m such a pain in your ass.”
 

“Never be sorry for ever calling me. Baby, no apologies here. Shep, he’s not gonna come around you. I promise he won’t get to you again.” Something about the way Shooter says it makes me believe him. I truly believe he won’t let Shep anywhere near me.
 

“I’m late for work. I gotta go,” I say, needing my escape.
 

“Don’t ever hesitate to call me, baby.”
 

“’Kay,” I manage to whisper before sliding the phone off.
 

Blowing out my breath, I set about getting inside and to work. This cannot consume me further. I survived. I cannot allow it to hold me back from my life.