Page 45 of Patching Over

“Brick, the fact that my brother looked like he saw a ghost yesterday and also how emotional he got in your office when he doesn’t give me the impression he’s got many soft parts, tells me how much this incident impacted everyone,” she conveys, her tone soothing and lulling me.

I didn’t realize my fist was clenched tightly along my side until she started stroking it. Once I unfurl it, she laces our fingers together.

“We can stop if you need to, I know it’s got to be hard remembering all of it.”

“No, I need you to know how everything played out. Sometime in the second week, an envelope was left at the gates addressed to RiffRaff. The prospect brought it in, Church was called, and they opened it to find color pictures of a little girl, all bloody and bruised, unmoving and appearing to be deceased. I’ve never seen the pictures personally, sweetheart, but you heard Ban yesterday and he apparentlydidsee them at some point. You looked dead in those pictures and the note only said,‘You’ll never find her’with nothing else for us to go on.”

I take a second to keep my temper checked. I continue to stroke her skin, calming my erratic heartbeat.

“By then, we knew it was the Demon Devils MC behind your kidnapping, they were who had taken you, thanks to the markers and what-not the club had pulled in, but despite our enforcer’s best efforts, little to no information was given. Still, each lead was followed until it ended, and intel dried up. The rest of the club, knowing we were gunning for them, went underground, but your dad and mom never stopped searching.

“Maybe five or six months after you were taken and presumed dead, they were out on a ride, just to get away from everything for a few hours, when a truck hit them and forced them off the road, down an embankment and into some trees. They were killed on impact, sweetheart.”

“Oh, my God! Poor Banshee,” she cries, tears now trickling down her face. “He lost so much in such a short period of time. What happened to him?”

“He came to live with RiffRaff and me,” I tell her, trying to ease her worry over her brother. “My mom wasn’t in the picture and wasn’t really an intricate part of the club, so when that happened to you, my own mother, the woman who birthed me and should’ve loved me more than life itself, moved away. Haven’t seen her since.”

“One incident drastically changed so many people’s lives,” she states, now sobbing.

“Not your fault,” I remind her, just like she did to me. “It was hard on the club, losing Bonzai and Lorelei, and that’s when the club decided to have a funeral for you as well. Even though we didn’t have a body in the physical sense, we buried your parents together, along with some of your favorite belongings, like a Cabbage Patch doll and your favorite blanket. I think Banshee put a heart necklace in there so you would ‘look pretty for Jesus’ or something like that.”

I have to stop talking now, she’s hysterically crying, clinging to me like a barnacle does to the bottom of a boat. “Shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Let it out, it’s going to be okay.”

Over and over, I keep whispering nonsensical things to her in an effort to calm her down.

CHAPTER

THREE

Rayleigh

I’m not sure when my grief turns into an overwhelming, animalistic need for Brick, but his hands are igniting a fiery need deep inside.

“Brick?” I whisper. I’m still a bit unsure as far as initiating sex so I hope he’ll be able to figure out what I’m needing from him.

“What, Ray?” he replies, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

“Can we, um, is it wrong, dammit, I don’t know how to say this,” I exclaim, so frustrated I ball my hands into fists.

“You need me to show you you’re still alive, sweetheart?” he questions.

“Yes.” My tone is now breathy because his hands have traveled underneath my nightshirt, stroking my bare skin, which pebbles with every brush of his fingers.

“We can do that, sweetheart, and it’s not wrong. Nothing we do together will ever be wrong, do you understand?” His tone is fierce, so I nod in agreement.

Since it’s been so intense, I look at him and softly confess what I’m visualizing, “I think it would be romantic under the tree, don’t you?”

A grin lights up his face and he nods. “Let me get a blanket laid down so you don’t get any rug burns.”

He rolls out of bed, and I admire his muscled physique. He’s wearing boxer briefs which showcase his thick, juicy thighs and firm ass. I can feel my face heating up as my eyes continue to roam his body. Wide, broad shoulders that taper down to a waist which is framed with a gazillion pack which is way more than the standard six-pack. His Adonis belt has me salivating and when he turns after putting the thick comforter he grabbed from the bottom of the bed onto the floor near the sparkling lit tree, I can see the evidence of his desire in the thick, pulsing bulge.

“Keep licking your lips like that and you’re gonna be on your knees,” he smirkingly teases, stalking toward where I’m already sitting up in the bed.

Before I can say anything in rebuttal, he scoops me up then deposits me softly onto my feet.

As I slowly kneel before him, he stops me. “Wait.”

Huh. Well, I wasn’t expecting to be rejected so thoroughly. I know I haven’t really gone down on him all that much so I’m sure my technique leaves much to be desired, but right now, I’m feeling a bit… bereft. Tears start to well when I feel him kneel before me then stand again. Looking down, I see a pillow.

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