Page 32 of Flyboy's Nightingale
I tilt my head in Vixen and Candy’s direction, looking Vixen in the eye before I speak, again. “No, I’m not fucking kidding you. Everyone in this building knows it’s a motherfucking bad idea for me to stay here, bringing all of my crazy with me!”
I’m completely gobsmacked when Vixen and Edge both burst out laughing like a bunch of hyenas.
“Riles, my dear, are you sure that you know these men at all?” Vixen chuckles, wiping tears from her eyes.
Narrowing my eyes, I snap, “That’s just it! I don’t know these guys any better than I would a stranger. You guys don’t know my history, or even understand what I’ve been through.”
The ladies stop laughing, looking at me with looks of recognition and connectedness that it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to let them see anger and sadness that hides behind my well-constructed walls.
“You do know them! You spent months around them at the hospital. Did they ever show you any signs of aggression? Did they give you the idea that they would hurt you?” Vixen queries as she takes the bottle Edge is holding.
“That’s just it. What you see out in public isn’t always the truth behind closed doors. I mean fuck, my dad’s club were the best guys in the world until they got themselves wrapped up in drugs and all the other bullshit. Then, nothing else mattered, everyone and everything was free game,” I hiss, the ire from years of torment and torture leaking through.
“Do you know any of our backstories, or how we came to be here?” Edge retorts, sharing a look with both Candy and Vixen.
I search their faces, trying to understand what they’re attempting to tell me without speaking the words. After what seems like an eternity, I give up, and go back to my bottle of whiskey.
“What is your guy's story? Edge you never did tell me when we were living together,” Candy says, speaking more than I’ve heard her voice in a singular sentence since I showed up here.
Vixen and Edge share a meaningful look, silently conversing, as only two people who have gone through some traumatic shit can. Eventually, they both turn back to me; a decision being made between them.
“Edge and I are cousins. Our parents were best friends and siblings. They died when we were barely teenagers. While we were in foster care, I met a man on a motorcycle that I thoughtwas going to save us. Only, it turns out that this man didn’t save us, he took us from a bad situation and into circumstances that were fucking hell.” She stops talking long enough to take a long pull off the Fireball in her hand. “At first, everything was okay and fun. Slowly, the old men started stepping down and the parties and drugs started showing up in larger and more potent quantities.”
I hold my breath not believing what I’m hearing them say. These women’s stories are nearly identical to mine.
“After years of being drugged, beat, traded and treated like fucking nothing, one day this club walked in the door, and decide they wanted us. You want to talk about a war to end all wars? The guys are still cleaning up that mess.”
“Wait. You're saying that the club went to war because of you two?” Candy’s sarcastic tone does nothing to lessen my worries.
“That’s exactly what they did, and when the same cartel that used and abused you beat the shit out of me, this club wiped out the entire circle that was here,” Edge says as she sighs, twisting her hands in her lap.
“You really think that amotorcycle club, of this caliber, would risk it all against another club and the cartel for a piece of ass? There isn’t a man alive that would do that for anyone,” Candy sneers, glaring at the cup in her hand.
Vixen stands so fast that it causes her chair to tip over sideways, leaning close to Candy, she hisses, “I’ve about had it with your shit. We get it that you’ve had a hard life and that men haven’t been good to you in the past, but just like Riley, you need to fucking stop judging these men and comparing them against everyone else.”
Shivering at the venom and ice coming from Vixen, I feel sorry for Candy at this moment. Yes, these men take no shit and will fight for their own; women and children included, until death stares them in the face. These Ol’ ladies though, will makesure that you suffer in this life, as well as the next, to protect who they consider theirs. Candy opens her mouth to speak, being cut off by Edge who stood while I was focused solely on Vixen.
Edge puts a hand on Vixen’s shoulders, speaking quietly in her ear. Vixen stands, taking a step back but never stopping the glare focused on Candy.
“The men in the club have been nothing but good to you, Candy. They’ve taken care of you, stayed out of your way, and even taken on some fights that weren't theirs. Hear me when I say, your continued disdain will end now, or we may need to find somewhere else for you to stay while you get yourself together.” Edge sounds completely broken while saying that to her.
Candy looks at all of us with tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry! You’re right, I’m being a complete bitch. I just don’t know how to be different. Please, I’m so sorry.”
She sobs, and Edge pulls her into a hug, sighing. Vixen throws her hands up before turning to leave, anger coming off her like an inferno. Edge looks back over at me, the look in her eyes a pleading one.
I give her a sad smile because I just don’t know how I’m going to be able to do it. What I do know is that I do not want to be like Candy, bitter and angry at all men because of what a few fucking jackasses have done to me in the past.
Setting my bottle on the ground beside me, I close my eyes, giving the two women a small amount of privacy. While laying there taking in the sun, I must doze off because the next thing I know, the slamming of the back door jerks me awake. I bolt upright, my head getting dizzy from all the alcohol. Looking around wildly, until I remember I’m on the back patio of the clubhouse, my heartrate settles back into its normal rhythm. A shadow falls over me, bringing my attention up a long pair of jean clad legs, with a white tee shirt under a leather cut to a pairof bright green eyes, filled with humor and an underlying look of danger deep within them.
“If it wasn’t for Vixen sitting at the bar, fuming mad, then I would’ve been worried you ran off.” Flyboy looks out over the pool, shoving his hands in his pocket.
“I told you guys I wouldn’t,” I reply. What else is there to say? I may have wanted to run like the hounds of hell were nipping at me, but I try to honor my promises.
“Oh, we’ve heard that before, and then like a flash of fucking lightning, the hardheaded women in this place think they know better than us and run anyway,” Duck grumbles, grabbing Edge’s lounge chair and pulling it close to me.
It takes every fiber of my being not to pull away at his closeness. “As much as I want to say that I’m as strong as they are, I’m not. I’ll stay as long as you need me to so that you guys can get the answers you need to protect yourself. Then I won’t run. I’ll leave to find my next stop along the way.”
“Riley, can I ask you a question?” Duck asks, almost as if he is lost in thought.
