Page 36 of Bound by Destiny
Jacks is okay, at least that’s what Princess told me after talking to Cruz. They’re all at the clubhouse waiting for us to get there, but we couldn’t leave without the cops following along. They know we’re Ravage, and there are some that try to get us caught in things. Payoffs happen, at least I believe they do considering some things just magically disappear.
“They’re gone,” Princess says, grabbing everyone’s attention. “This is the plan. We don’t want them to know the guys went after them. Therefore, you take the long way to the clubhouse. Head toward your homes first. Be cautious of who’s around you and following you. Right now, technically they can only get a warrant to search this place—we don’t want to give them any reason to think they can get one for the clubhouse.”
Micah sits off to the side, deep in thought. From the different facial expressions, it’s something deep that he’s trying to work out. I leave him to it.
“Did they catch them?” Austyn asks her mother.
Princess’ eyes bore into her daughter’s. “No.” This means yes, they have them and Princess is protecting us in case we get asked questions.
Austyn nods, moving around the room. “Make sure every door and window is locked.” She looks over to me. “Go to your place and do the same. Grab some shit just in case.”
Knowing what that means, considering I’ve been on lockdown several times in my life, I need to prepare. Staying at the clubhouse has some good memories and some bad. It’s a second home though, always has been—always will be.
“I’ll go with you,” Dagger says, towering over me. Damn, he’s tall. He’s always so laid back, but right now he’s on full alert.
“Thanks.”
I look over to Micah, but he’s still deep in whatever he has going on. Shrugging, we head over to my place, check the windows and doors, and I pack a bag along with all my books and laptop. We get back to Austyn’s.
Micah’s walking around looking for something. When he says, “Emery” and looks relieved, I know it’s me.
“I’m good. We need to get to the clubhouse.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No,” Buzz says, making Micah jump back. “She’s on the back of my bike. Bella is taking the kids in her car, and Emery is with me.”
“I can take her.”
Buzz shakes his head and crosses his arms. “I can’t trust you, and I don’t have time for bullshit games. You take her bags, but her body is on the back of my fuckin’ bike.”
Micah looks as if he’s going to go toe-to-toe with Buzz, which isn’t a good idea. I’m pretty sure Micah hasn’t fought a day in his life and Buzz—well, he’ll wipe the floor with whoever stands in his way.
Stepping in, I turn to Micah. “Can you take my bags please, and I’ll meet you at the clubhouse.” Only then do his eyes come to me as he lifts his chin, grabs my bags, and leaves. I visibly deflate knowing at least that’s handled.
“We need to find his balls,” Buzz says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, and a small chuckle escapes me. “Cause he sure as shit lost ‘em a long time ago.” It was a test, and Micah failed. He has a lot to learn if he really is coming back here to be in the fold.
We say our goodbyes for the moment, and all of us take off in different directions.
My mind races. Pops was in surgery the last time Ma called Princess. We haven’t heard anything since. He has to be alive. Has to.
Jacks. This urge to get to him and make sure he’s not really hurt, as everyone keeps playing it, but he was shot! I need to see him with my own eyes and make sure he’s okay. I feel like part of me is at the clubhouse waiting and Buzz’s bike can’t get there fast enough.
Then there’s Micah. Years of my life have been wrapped up in him. Trying to get his attention when he wouldn’t give it. Hoping he would call me to come over or just to talk. My childhood is littered with memories of the two of us, one after the other.
They’re happy ones, for the most part. But the thing about them is—they are childlike. The want and craving for his attention. Like an infatuation, and the way he looks at me isn’t like I’d envisioned. It’s not a desperate need for me.
It’s comfortable.
It’s friendly.
The flood gates open with this realization. Friends. That’s what we have turned into. Not lovers wanting to spend the rest of our lives together, but friends who will be there for each other whenever we need them.
The childhood fantasy of Micah is just that. A fantasy of a child who heard of her parents meeting in the clubhouse and being together for life. That isn’t my plan. That isn’t what will happen. All of that is a fantasy that has grown into a web spinning around my life.
The dreams of us being together were just that. Dreams.
Closing my eyes, it’s not Micah I see—no, it’s Jacks. Holy shit.
