Page 10 of Risk
Before I get a chance to prepare for his attack, I’m rammed by Conan and the two of us go flying. The chair I was sitting on flips and we hit the ground rolling. We exchange a few blows before we’re yanked apart by Regulator and Rev. “Y’all are gonna get us kicked out,” Rev grinds out.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Hemi mutters.
“You are all a bunch of overgrown boys,” Demi mumbles, stomping her foot. “This is foolish behavior.” She reaches out and grabs Conan by the edge of his ear and starts towing him out of the room. We can hear her scolding him all the way down the hallway and he’s trying to cool her engine by purring sexual innuendos at her.
“You’d think by now she’d understand that’s foreplay for him,” I say.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t find a dark corner on the way to Luna’s room,” Regulator surmises.
As one well-oiled unit, we all lean further into the hallway and watch the couple as they continue to walk down the path. Sure enough, Conan wraps his arms around her waist and yanks her into a room. Hopefully one that’s unoccupied because if not, a set of new parents are going to get one helluva exhibitionist show.
After a couple more hours, we all make our rounds with Luna and Kodiak’s new son. We all went into that room bearing gifts. Luna is ladened down with flowers and chocolates. Jett now has enough onesies, diapers, bibs, and blankets to get him through his first year. Not to mention we all went in with some type of stuffed animal. I got Jett a bear because it reminded me of his father and his road name. Thank fuck for apps and the ability to order shit on my phone because until I saw other things being delivered by drivers to my brothers, I hadn’t thought about giving the new parents and kid anything.
At first, I was going to offer babysitting services instead of purchasing anything. And then I thought about it and decided fuck that. I don’t know how to change a diaper let alone water and feed another person—I can’t even keep a goldfish alive let alone a tiny, dependent human being.
As I journey through the dark streets on my bike as I make my way back to the clubhouse, I can’t help but appreciate the brothers riding at my side. If it weren’t for them, I’d be living a lonely existence. As we pass through downtown and end up idling at a stoplight, I glance upward and my heart jumps intomy throat at the woman I see looking down from her apartment window. Our eyes meet and I see the longing and sadness on her face as she stares back at me.
I’m the cause of every wrinkle in her frown.
I don’t know how to make what I did right for her. How to make her smile again. To hear the chiming of her laughter. I stole that happiness from her, ripped it away with a drunken mistake.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth the words to her. “So, fucking sorry.” I’m not sure if she can read my lips or not, but she nods at me and lowers the shades.
I clamp my eyes shut, committing her address to memory as the light turns green and my brothers begin to rev their engines.
“I don’t know how, but I’m going to make this up to you, Vixen.”
The rest of the way home, I make a mental plan. I decide to start having small things delivered to her place. Ice cream being on the top of that list because it’s one of her favorite snacks. Whenever she was sad, she’d drown her sorrows in milk chocolate.
I may not ever earn true forgiveness, but if I can cause her to grin, I’ll accept it. I don’t want to hinder her life, but I refuse to divorce her or yank the title of old lady away from her. That’s the least she deserves. If I hadn’t been a failure and the perpetrator in the ruin our marriage, she’d still have a family.
She may not realize it, but I’m going to make it my life mission to show her that she still does. The guys still talk about her, they miss her. If I have to skip town for her to accept she’s still one of us, then that’s what I’ll do.
Fuck. I hope it doesn’t come down to that because my brothers, my club, they’re my lifeline.
“They were hers too,”that pesky voice that talks to me from time to time reminds me.
Dammit.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
McKenna
It tooksome time to get Isla out of her docile frame of mind. I distinctly remember that mindset. Unlike her, I was tossed to the wolves without anybody to help guide me through the expected routine. After making her something to drink, I ushered her to the bathroom and handed her a spare pair of my sweats and an overly large tank top that I know will swallow her because it does on me. It’s a security blanket of sorts for me and I’m hoping it’ll give her the same type of relief. I recall how much I wanted to scrub Marshall’s touch from my skin the very moment he dumped me in my first place, so I wanted her to have that opportunity to do so as well.
As she was breaking down in the shower, her sobs reached my ears—like scratches to a chalkboard, I needed to refocus and prepare myself for when she finally managed to pull herself out. That’s how I found myself in front of the window, contemplating life. When the bikes idled at the stoplight in front of my complex, I froze. I didn’t need to see who it was on those bikes to know who one of the riders was. He’s always had a sort of psychic,magnetic pull on me. I have never needed to put eyes on him to know he was near or in the same room as I was.
He’s always been the ying to my yang.
Risk holds my soul in the pit of his hand. I just wish he’d been more careful with it.
When our eyes connect, I’m held captive. I’m not sure if from this distance he can see the tears trekking down my cheeks or not, but in case he can’t, I don’t wipe my face clean. I refuse. Those are mine and I’m not in a mental or emotional place to share them. Needing to break this hold he has on me, I nod and close the blinds. My hands grip the fabric of the curtains as I drape them shut. My body starts trembling and I have to use the breathing exercise technique I learned online to calm my racing heart.
“Shit,” I mumble as tiny, dark specs waft through my vision. “Breathe, Kenna. Just because he found out where you live doesn't mean he’s going to stop by.” Once I have myself convinced that life will go on as normal, I step back and walk over to the kitchen. I’m not sure when the last time Isla ate was, but food is a comfort and if that’s all I can provide for her, then I’m gonna do it.
These next few weeks are going to be a shock to her system. She’s going to have to learn how to cope. I’m going to have to convince her to keep up her physical strength by getting enough sleep, even through the nightmares, and substance in her belly, even if she’s not hungry, otherwise, she’s going to stumble and fall. And that’s one rabbit’s hole she’ll never be able to dig herself out of.
