Page 72 of Relentles
“Fuck off, stupid bitch!”
Scratching his jaw, he winced, remembering the hurt that flickered in his mother’s eyes at his angry words. He’d been in pain from the ass beating. Fuck, he wasstillin pain.
“Yo, dickhead, that’s my mom, too. She just begged for your miserable life.”
Devon never confronted Ryan. It was those words that hadn’t allowed him to see her punch coming. She’d grazed his chin, socked him in the stomach, then kicked him in his balls. When he’d doubled over, she’d head locked him and threw him into the wall. He’d bounced off the fucking wooden beams, lucky he hadn’t dislocated his shoulder.
“Rad, Mom.”
Devon’s awe seeped into Ryan’s misery. Once the pain resided enough to lift himself on all fours, she’d kicked him in the fucking ass and laid him out again.
That bitch was brutal. He’d prefer his pops kicking his ass over her any fucking day of the week.
By the time Val got home, Ryan had been in his room, suffering the aftereffects of his near death from both Uncle Christopher and his mother. The murder in her eyes truly fucking frightened him.
“I-I delivered him during a rainstorm. All alone. He stopped breathing and I thought I’d lost him. I’d never been so scared in my life, and I fought to save him. I love my sons so much—”
His mother loved him. Why that came as such a shock to him, he didn’t know. He’d felt lesser for so many years that it never occurred to him shemightlove him. For his entire life, she’d told Ryan, his brother, and his dad all the time how she adored them, but when he listened to her interact with CJ, it blinded him with rage and jealousy.
He hated her because he hated CJ. He hated his father because Val never looked at Ryan and told him he could grow up to be Prez. It was always with an inflated ego about how goodhe was as Road Captain. Ryan never heard anyone else praise that stupid motherfucker about his abilities on the road and his organizational skills at planning runs. He even bragged about his technological proficiency. It was alwaysValpuffing himself up.
Inevitably, it was followed with expectations of Ryan following in his footsteps. He'd add advice, offer guidance on life and expectations, hand him bullshit that he wasn’t less than anyone because of his and CJ’s futures roles.
Unless Val and Mom told Ryan they’d rebelled and forced CJ into exile, he tuned them out, called them liars, and pretended they didn’t exist.
Ryan didn’t even own a fucking pussyped like CJ. He knew how to ride because Val had given himthatmuch courtesy, but the motherfucker was as much an ass licker as Harley accused Mortician of being.
Yet, his mother loved him. She wouldn’t have begged for his life if she didn’t. One day, he might even ask her how he’d started breathing again.
Today was Christmas Eve andbelievinghis mother loved him was like an early present. He wondered if the feeling would last. Or would it buckle under the reality of her jokes with CJ and her smiles at Devon. The momma’s boy still enjoyed her haircuts, whereas Ryan pushed away from her as soon as she finished.
Did he have any responsibility for how she treated him? Doubtful. He washerchild.Shewas the adult. The burden of proof was on her shoulders. In this day and age, he didn’t have to love or respect his mother just because she’d pushed him out of her twat. Val had even less claim on Ryan’s allegiance. Any motherfucker could’ve squirted in her pussy and made Ryan. Just because it was that weak motherfucker’s didn’t mean Ryan owed him anything.
Yesterday at breakfast, his father had been gruff, attentive, and lecturing, warning him not to fuck over the club and reminding him that if there was a next time nothing would save his life. His father didn’t know about the confrontation Ryan had with his mother; otherwise, he would’ve had his ass on his shoulders.
Movement over the frozen brambles drew Ryan’s attention and he looked up from where he was leaning against one of the posts that held up the abandoned picnic shelter near Turn Creek. He’d decided against meeting Willard and Wallace on the bridge. Memories of Bash strangling him there were still too fresh.
The Bart brothers trudged toward him. He’d left their place once Molly was released from the hospital because he wanted to be close to her. Unfortunately, that cunt, Roxanne, volunteered her place, so Ryan hadn’t visited Molly yet.
“Ryan!” Wally broke away from Willard and ran the rest of the way. They bumped fists. “The house hasn’t been the same without you.”
Digging into his pocket, Ryan pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. By the time he lit it, took a drag, and released the smoke, Willard was there.
“Hey, cuck,” he greeted.
Ryan nodded. “S’up.”
“I was just telling Ry the house hasn’t been the same since he left.”
“I’m sure,” Ryan said dryly, taking another drag of his cigarette.
Willard narrowed his eyes. “You don’t sound appreciative of the kindnesses we showed you.”
Ryan glared at Willard and blew smoke in his face. “I’m jumping for fucking joy.”
“You didn’t like being there?” Wallace asked, a little less enthused. He sounded hurt.
Willard swung his piggy eyes to his younger brother. “Take a walk for a few minutes.”
