After stopping for a big breakfast and a large box of wraps, his Bronco was now backed up to a small storage unit located in Media, about forty minutes from the motel. Reilly had been abnormally quiet for the whole ride and now stood staring at the front of the blue roll-up door with the key in her hand.
She’d been standing there ever since he opened the rear of his truck, so they’d be able to easily load whatever she wanted to keep. Luckily, the storage place had dumpsters to unload anything she deemed not worth hauling home. But with the size of the unit, he couldn’t imagine she had a lot of shit to begin with.
She turned the silver key over and over within her fingers and her bottom lip was crushed between her teeth. Rev plucked the key from her hand and unlocked the padlock.
She blew out a loud breath behind him. “It feels like I’m stepping back into a past life.”
To him, it was simply a storage unit. Unfortunately to her, it was more. “Ain’t a magic door, babe. Ain’t a portal. That fucker will never touch you again. You never got to even say his name. This is just one last piece to deal with so you can finish movin’ on.”
This morning, over coffee and two orders of the Belly Buster Breakfast Special, she had told him that she’d never gone back to her apartment after her hospital stay. Her sister had hired movers to pack up Reilly’s personal shit and put it in storage. Reese had only grabbed some basics from her place before shuttling her off to Mansfield the second Reilly was discharged.
Reese was fucking smart to get her sister the fuck out of the area. Especially after that dangerous fucknut made bail and then ghosted.
It was bad enough the motherfucker had almost snuffed out Reilly’s life, but he’d also stole the little money she had managed to save. She didn’t have much to begin with but after Warren was done, she had nothing. Her bank accounts were scraped clean and her sole credit card maxed out. Since Reese moved Reilly into her house to hide her and keep her safe, Reilly also lost her job and her apartment.
Reese had stepped in and taken care of everything, but then, Deacon’s woman had tight control of her own life and taking care of Reilly wasn’t anything new to her. Reilly might get annoyed at Reese’s smothering sometimes, but her older sister had been there for her from the moment she was born.
She did for Reilly what Rev had wished he had done for Saylor. Taken her from birth and raised her on his own. While Reese had no other choice, Rev had two “functioning” parents and didn’t know things weren’t “normal” until much later. When it was already too late.
“Okay, you can open it now.” She pulled him from his thoughts.
Rev rolled up the door and revealed the interior. He expected it to be packed solid since it was such a small unit. It wasn’t. Besides a few appliances like a toaster oven and a microwave, most of the contents were boxes. For fuck’s sake, none of those fucking boxes were marked.
“Would say we’ll just load everythin’ up, then you and Reese can go through them once we’re back in Manning Grove but all that shit ain’t gonna fit in my Bronco. So, if you want this to be once and done, gonna need you to figure out what you want and what you don’t.”
He couldn’t imagine she would want to return a second time since Media was almost four hours from home. That would be a hell of a haul for a few more knickknacks.
Reilly also wanted to empty the storage unit today and turn in the key so Reese was no longer obligated to pay that monthly bill.
“I didn’t have much since my apartment came furnished. Some of the stuff I might be able to sell at the consignment shop back home to get a little extra cash to give to Reese, but there’s no point in hauling things home if they need to be thrown out.”
It would help if they got a system in place. “How ‘bout you go through each box, then tell me to either load it up or take it out to the dumpster?”
She considered the stacked boxes and nodded slightly. “Okay.”
He stepped in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. He grabbed her hands and held them to his chest. “Babe… Let’s just get it done and over with, then once we shut that door, it’s fuckin’ shut for the final time, if you know what I’m sayin’.”
She nodded again; her face paler than normal. “I do.”
“If it’s easier, I can throw all this shit out and you don’t have to touch any of it.”
She glanced past him into the unit. “No, I have clothes and boots… My books and electronics… Stuff I’ve been without for the past year.”
“But you’ve borrowed or bought other shit. You’ve done without anythin’ in this unit for the last year.”
“Not by choice. I won’t let that dead douchebag steal anything else from me. And by dumping everything I own, that’s what he’d be doing. Even from beyond the grave.”
Rev didn’t want to remind her that the asshole didn’t have a grave. He’d been plowed into the dirt and the only thing left of him was her memories.
He turned and considered the contents of the unit. “Any clothes you’re keepin’, right?”
“Yes, as long as I still fit in them.” She sighed. “I might not.”
“Ain’t gonna try everythin’ on now. Any clothes you find, we’ll take. If we run outta room, we’ll get pickier. Yeah?”
She nodded. “I can always donate the clothes to a shelter after we get home.”
He clapped his hands together sharply once just like Trip sometimes did to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, let’s do this. Wanna stop at the house on the way back to the motel later. Check on that fucker’s progress.”
Matthew was supposed to text him if things seemed close to the end, but Rev didn’t trust the man to do it now that his uncle knew why Rev had come home.
He probably regretted ever tracking Rev down.
They made fast work of the boxes at the front of the unit. Reilly was moving quickly, opening and digging through them, pulling out shit she could toss and even combining some boxes.
She would finish with one and say “toss” or “keep” and he’d either take the shit to the dumpster or his Bronco. His Ford had a decent amount of space, but not as much as a full-sized pickup and the cargo room it did have was filling up fast.
Fitting the boxes inside the back was like a fucking puzzle. He found a spot for a box of kitchen shit, then turned, “Babe, you gotta be more selective, gonna run out of space.”
With her face ghost white, she was squatting next to an open box at the back of the unit, staring inside.
What the fuck?
“Reilly,” he called out as he zig-zagged through the remaining boxes in the unit to get to her. Stepping up to her back, he glanced down and just about lost his fucking shit. “What the fuck! Your sister didn’t make sure that stuff was thrown the fuck out?”
“She told them to pack everything but the furniture. She was too busy taking care of me… Like normal,” she said in a flat whisper.
With boxes blocking him, he couldn’t get around her to block her view of the contents, so he leaned over, grabbed her under her arm pits, hauled her to her feet and pinned her to his chest. Without releasing her, he took a few steps backward until they could no longer see the bloody items in the box. Shit that had been splattered with her blood during the beating had been tossed into a box instead of being cleaned or thrown away.
She was stiff in his arms as he held her with one arm supporting her just below her breasts and the other across her belly to make sure she didn’t collapse.
Reilly was a strong woman, but having that reminder thrown in her face, especially when she wasn’t expecting it, had to fuck with her head.
“Let’s go,” he whispered, backing out of the unit, careful not to trip.
“We’re not done.” Again, her voice sounded flat. Lost.
He turned her around in his arms and saw her eyes were just as dead as her tone.
“You’re done here,” he insisted.
“No—”
“Yes, Reilly, you’re fuckin’ done.” He had no idea how many more boxes had bloody items in them, or even if one contained the object Warren used to create that scar, whatever fucking knickknack he used in an attempt to bash in her brains.
For all he knew, it could’ve been more than one object.
No matter how many boxes contained tainted items—even if only that one—she would not be forced to go through them. He’d do it on his own. Fuck that shit.
“Let’s go.” He shuffled her out of the unit and into the passenger seat of the Bronco. He leaned in and latched her seatbelt for her, slammed her door shut and ran to the rear of the Bronco to secure both it and the unit before getting her the fuck out of there.
Then they drove the forty minutes back to the motel with only road noise, the rumble of the engine and the satellite radio playing rock filling the Ford’s interior.
The whole way, he kept sneaking glances at her, but she had her face turned toward the passenger side window, watching the landscape pass by as he took the roads leading back to their motel.
It was early enough that he could drop her back off at the room and head back down to the unit to finish. If he threw out shit she needed, oh fucking well, she could buy new shit. Putting her through the trauma of her seeing her own damn blood on her own damn possessions was completely un-fucking-necessary. He’d deal with it and spare her that.
It was too bad that motherfucker was already dead, because he really wanted to fucking kill him. He’d squeezed the steering wheel tightly, wishing it was Warren’s throat. He couldn’t stop imagining him being the one to punch the man unconscious that day at the garage instead of Deacon.
Deacon had struck Warren using his right hand for what he’d done to Reese and his left for what he’d done to Reilly. It wasn’t until Warren was unconscious and Deke’s hands were a raw, bloody mess that he stopped.
Rev had missed most of that since he had been inside the garage with Reese and Reilly, keeping them from going out back, getting in the middle of it and killing Warren themselves.
But, in the end, Reilly had been Warren’s judge, jury and executioner instead of Deacon. Rightfully so, since the bastard had broken her arm and nose, cracked open her face and head, plus left behind a permanent reminder she had to see in the mirror every damn day.
That was enough to make her just a bit pissed about it.
Only right now, she wasn’t pissed. She was being swallowed up by the past. He knew it bothered her that she had allowed a piece of shit like Warren into her life and let him take advantage of her when she was not that type of woman.
Maybe that affected her more than the violence itself. That might be one of the reasons she avoided talking about Warren at all. It embarrassed her when it really fucking shouldn’t.
Either way, she shouldn’t dwell on hindsight. They all could get caught up with wishing they’d done or seen things differently before it was too late.
Unfortunately, life wasn’t that fucking easy or clear. It was a deep mud puddle that sometimes sucked your boots in so deeply, it was a struggle to get free.
Warren had the skills to suck Reilly in. He had honed those skills with many women prior to her.
He shuttled her into the motel room—relieved the housekeeper had already been in their room for the day—stripped her down to her panties, tossed one of his T-shirts over her head and tucked her into bed.
All without a fight from her.
That was not like her. No words? No spark? Definitely not her normal Reilly-self.
It worried him. And not just a little bit.
Worse, he couldn’t call the one person who might be able to snap her out of it. Calling her older sister would cause a lot of grief and then turn a mess into a complete disaster.
Hopefully, she’d soon snap out of whatever shock she’d fallen into.
He’d never seen her this down. That made him wonder how deeply she’d been burying what happened that day in her apartment.
“Why don’t you just sleep for a bit?” he suggested. “We were up most of the night, you’re probably exhausted.” He tucked the bedding around her and leaned over to brush a kiss across her forehead.
As he pulled away, her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Where are you going?” Her question held much more panic than it should.
“Back to the unit to finish goin’ through the boxes and load them in the truck.”
“Don’t leave!”
Fuck. He didn’t want to leave her, either, but… “Need to get that shit done, babe. Not sure how long we’re gonna be here. If I finish it today, we can hit the road as soon as my father bites it.” Which he hoped was within the next couple of days.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered.
The bed dipped when he sat on the edge, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels, bypassing anything with blood, guts and gore and found some sappy-assed, kissy-face movie. Some chick flick.
He knew what else might help her. Normally he kept that shit in his cut, but he hadn’t worn his cut once since leaving Manning Grove. One reason being, he was driving a cage instead of his sled. He also didn’t want to wear it at his parents’ house and get questions he wanted to avoid. Because it had a “Manning Grove” patch right on the front, it might also give them an idea on where to look for Saylor.
It was bad enough Matthew had found the info where he worked. He did not want them, none of them, trying to contact her.
But another important reason was, a Pagans MC support club had territory in the southeast of Pennsylvania and he did not want to step on any other club’s toes, possibly causing issues. Especially since he’d be a lone Fury member versus a club of rivals. Out of courtesy and respect, most MC members gave a heads up before entering another MC’s territory whenever possible.
If another club rolled into Manning Grove and didn’t keep moving, Trip would have a problem with it. They all would. It was one thing to simply be riding through, it was another to stop and stay any length of time without permission. Doing so could be considered a threat.
Since the Blood Fury, Dirty Angels and Dark Knights MCs controlled all the territory on the western side of the state, and were allies, they were careful about who else might be in the area. Territory grabs were a real threat. The DAMC had way too many issues with a former nomad club called the Shadow Warriors. A decades-long war all three allies would like to prevent in the future.
She made a sharp noise and grabbed his wrist tighter when he stood up. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he said softly. “Just gonna run out to the truck and grab somethin’ that’s gonna help.” He didn’t want to leave it in their room while they were gone, so he had removed it from his backpack and hid it in his truck.
He was out and back within a couple of minutes with his tin full of hand-rolled cigarettes, a small baggie of quality weed and a metal pipe in his hands. Her green eyes followed his every movement as he removed his boots, climbed onto the bed with her and sat up against the headboard. As he packed the pipe, she curled up against him, laying her head in his lap.
Christ, she looked way too good there. Like she belonged in and owned that spot. In a bed, wearing a shirt that smelled like him, blinking those green fucking eyes up at him filled with all that damn trust.
He suddenly saw what could be if she wasn’t who she was. If she didn’t have a red warning label slapped right in the middle of her damn forehead.
If he could, he’d strip down and join her under the sheets, but he really wanted to get the storage unit dealt with so she could put it out of her mind. And he wanted to get the fuck out of Coatesville as soon as he could.
He lit the bowl and took a long hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs before blowing it up and away from her.
“C’mere, babe,” he murmured, pulling her up by her elbow to face him. He took another hit, not inhaling this time, but filling his mouth. He cupped her face with his free hand and pushed their mouths together. She opened hers automatically and when he sealed his to hers, she stole all the smoke, inhaled it and managed to hold it for longer than he expected.
He’d take one hit, share the next, until they were both a hell of a lot more relaxed and zen-like. Rev was also ready for some cold, leftover pizza from last night. He was pretty damn sure it had turned to cardboard but he might be willing to gnaw on it for a while like a dog with a bone.
When they were done with the bowl, she settled back down onto her side, using his lap as a pillow again. He stroked her hair until her eyelids got heavy and finally closed. He didn’t stop until she went totally limp and her breathing became deep and heavy.
Just listening to her made the sleep pull at him, too. They’d spent half the night fucking and making each other come in a variety of really fucking fun ways. Because of that, he could use a few hours of solid sleep, too.
But it could wait. He’d head back down to Media, then come straight back. To fuck with checking in on his father today. If the fucker died before tomorrow morning, then so fucking be it. Reilly came first and with his asshole sire’s death, at least that part of his life would be over with, too.
Two doors closing. For him, on his youth and for her, her time living near Philly and her past with Billy Warren. Once those doors slammed shut, neither had to step through them ever again. The past would remain the past and they’d have nothing but the future to look forward to.
They just wouldn’t have a future with each other.
He lightly traced the thin scar that ran along her right temple by her eye and barely missed her cheek. Her face she saw as flawed wasn’t, to him the now soft and relaxed face framed by blonde hair was flawless. Perfect, even.
She’d find someone else. Someone not tied to the club, and he’d…
Continue doing what he’d already been doing.
Fucking randoms.
Fucking sweet butts.
And waking up alone every morning.
The last two mornings were the only times he’d woken up with someone else in his bed. Not counting the morning his mother dragged him out of Sarah’s bed by his hair.
He grabbed the motel-branded notepad and pen from the drawer and scribbled out a note, telling her he’d be back ASAP. He left a full pipe on the nightstand, along with a spare lighter from his backpack on top of the note.
He quietly tugged on his boots and headed out the door.
He wanted to get this shit done as quickly as he could and get back to her. Preferably before she woke up and found him gone.
Rev steered his Bronco into the parking spot in front of their room. He was fucking exhausted and really wanted to just eat, then sleep. But Reilly was in his bed again tonight, so he wasn’t sure if that would happen. He might have to just dig deep if she was in the mood to do a repeat of last night.
He hoped she was. He didn’t want to miss out on even one night of getting naked with her, but, more importantly, it would mean she was out of her funk.
No light could be seen through the narrow gap in the wide vertical blinds, but he could see flashes, which meant the TV was still on.
He opened the driver’s door, turned sideways in his seat and took a last couple puffs on his hand-rolled before flicking the remainder of the cigarette out into the dark parking lot. He blew the smoke up toward the night sky and stepped out, glancing back at his now packed Bronco.
He’d stuffed his truck to the point where he could no longer see out over the boxes in the back seat and would have to use his side mirrors to see behind him when he drove. He’d taken whatever he thought she could use or anything that he guessed might mean something to her and sorted out the rest.
He was fucking shocked at just how many items he found with blood splatter on them. Her apartment had to have looked like a murder scene by the time she was hauled away by the EMTs.
Thank fuck it ended up only being an “attempt” instead of an actual successful murder.
If he knew where her old apartment complex was located, he’d head over there, knock on her neighbors’ doors and thank them for stepping in when they could have easily ignored it like a lot of people would.
Thank fuck good people did exist in the world. It gave him some hope.
His life had begun to look up when he landed the job at Dutch’s Garage, then got to prospect for the newly resurrected Blood Fury MC. Manning Grove, the fucking snow and frigid temps in winter aside, was a great town. Great for him and even better for Saylor.
This shit with Reilly, though…
Yeah, it would only be a temporary thing.
Would it have to be? Would he want something more? Could he feel out Deacon and Reese about it? See what their reaction would be?
Or would that cause a bunch of suspicion and him getting fucked up the ass and not in a good way?
The problem was, he’d only fucked her one night. He also had to work with her, at least for now until she decided to move on to a bigger, better job, one in which she could put her college degree to use.
To approach Deke and Reese, there would have to be more between them than only a casual hookup. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that step. Not because of Reilly, but because of him. One nut-draining night with Reilly didn’t mean he was ready to claim her at the table, either.
Getting naked with her had been fun. For both of them. Maybe it wouldn’t ever go any farther than that.
A fun, friendly fuck.
Friends with bennies.
Reese might not have such a shit fit about him fucking Reilly if Rev offered her sister his cut. Then she would be the only woman on the back of his sled and also in his bed. He couldn’t imagine Reese could argue that, especially since she let Deacon claim her. Otherwise, she’d be a fucking hypocrite.
But they’d need to be serious.
They weren’t serious.
Yeah, they’d had the hots for each other and the sex had been banging. But right now, that was all it was. A forbidden, secret fling in a motel in Coatesville, Pennsylvania. The second he pointed his Bronco north, it would be over and need to be forgotten.
He stared at the motel room door with his keycard paused over the slot.
Because, fuck that, he wasn’t ready to settle down. He bet Reilly wasn’t, either.
With her at only twenty-five and him at twenty-eight, they both had a lot more exploring to do before getting tied down.
He unlocked the door and slipped inside, surprised to find her curled up under the covers with her eyes still closed. The TV volume so low it was being used as white noise.
He stepped over to the nightstand and saw the pipe’s bowl still full. But the bottle of water he left for her was half empty. That meant she hadn’t slept straight through.
He sat on the spare bed and blindly unlaced his boots since he was too busy staring at her while she slept. Once he had them kicked off and his socks tucked inside, he stood, yanked his T-shirt up over his head and quietly dropped his jeans.
He slid in next to her and curled his arms around her, pressing his nose into her hair, just enjoying her heat and softness against him.
She pulled her head back and opened her eyes. “You’re back,” she murmured, sleepily.
“Yeah, it’s done. Emptied the unit and gave the key back to the office. No reason to ever go back there again.”
She stared at him for a few heartbeats then, with her lips slightly turned down, whispered, “Sorry.”
Christ. This was not Reilly. Not her at all. “For what?”
“For letting it get to me. I just wasn’t expecting… It was stupid.”
“Wasn’t stupid. Can’t help how it made you feel. Own it, recognize what it is and then scrape it off. You’re allowed to let that shit bother you, babe, just don’t let it drown you. And, anyway, it would bother anyone. Truth? It fuckin’ bothered me and I wasn’t even there.”
“If you were, it never would’ve happened.”
If he was, she never would have been with Warren in the first place. “Yeah, well… Can’t go back in time.” He wished he could. He would’ve done a lot of shit differently.
She probably would have, too.
“What a fucking idiot I was to trust him. I was wary of him at first. I kept resisting but he kept coming into where I worked and… working me.” She covered her face with both hands. “Damn it!”
Holy fuck, was she going to cry? He hoped like fuck she wasn’t going to cry. He’d never once seen her cry. Not once. She couldn’t do it now. He wouldn’t know what to do.
“Don’t cry,” he urged in a panic. It was bad enough when he had a hard time getting Sarah to stop crying. In fact, he usually failed. His sister would only stop once she fell asleep in his arms and it broke his fucking heart every damn time. It also made him feel helpless.
She dropped her hands and blinked at him. “I’m not crying.”
Oh thank fuck.
“I’m pissed at how damn stupid and foolish I was. He made me his mark and I let him.”
“He was a fuckin’ pro at it. You weren’t the only one he did it to, Reilly. You fit his M.O., that’s all. And, of course, you caught his attention ‘cause you’re hot as fuck.”
“But after that, Reese felt the need to go back to mothering me. Or smothering me. It was like she revoked my adulthood. It didn’t help that I decided to stay in Manning Grove and work at the garage.”
“She don’t think it’s good enough for you.”
“Not for me. For my degree. One she paid for, mind you. I disappointed her in a couple of different ways.”
“Need to make your own mistakes.”
“I know she realizes that but I guess when your sister was close to being bludgeoned to death and sitting in a hospital bed hooked up to machines…” Reilly sighed.
“Yeah, the mother of all motherly instincts kicked in.”
“I was all she had… Well, until Deacon.”
“’Til all of us,” he corrected her.
“Yes, that’s probably one reason why she relented to me staying in Manning Grove, becoming a part of the club and working at the garage. She realized how much of a tight family the Fury was. Something we never had before since we only had each other. Okay, I had her. She never really had me to help her. I was a burden.”
“Jesus fuck, woman, not once have I ever heard Reese say you were or are a fuckin’ burden and you know that woman’s opinionated as all fuck and not afraid to say shit. She fuckin’ loves you. ‘Cause of that, she’s protective of you. She’s like a momma lioness protectin’ her damn cub.” He blew out a breath. “What the fuck, I can’t believe I’m defendin’ her, but it’s true. Everybody sees it and gets it. Here’s the thing, we all gotta take care of each other. Blood or not. For some of us, the club’s all we got. Someone needs somethin’, we gotta step up and step in.”
“Now you know why I insisted on coming along with you, why I didn’t want you to do this alone. When someone we care about needs something, we need to step up and step in to help.”
She just snared him with his own goddamn words, proving why he shouldn’t have fought her coming along.
She was so much smarter than him. He was sure plenty of people assumed by her being a hot, young blonde that she was some sort of airhead. She was far from that.
She was the complete fucking package and some man, someday, would be lucky to get stuck with her.
“It’s also why you went back to the storage unit to finish what I couldn’t.”
“You could’ve done it, Reilly, but there was no point in puttin’ you through that if it ain’t necessary. But push come to fuckin’ shove, you woulda buckled down and got it done. Got no fuckin’ doubt about that.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she murmured.
He tucked a thumb under her chin and lifted her face until their gazes locked. “Don’t think so, know so. Known you long enough now. Seen you in action. Know what you’re capable of. You ain’t stupid and you definitely ain’t foolish.”
“There you go sprinkling me with that powdered sugar again.” She grabbed his cheeks between her fingers and squeezed them together. “Too damn sweet.”
“Woman, I ain’t fuckin’ sweet! Stop sayin’ that shit,” he growled, jerking free of her grasp. He quickly smothered a smile when she laughed. He was relieved she was no longer in that weird funk.
And now she wasn’t, they could move on. To other things…
Like much more pleasant shit.
But first, she might be hungry. He sure was. For her and for food in his stomach. “Wanna know if you’re up for eatin’.”
“When am I ever not up for eating?”
When you’re in a zombie-like state, he answered in his head. But now that sass was back. “What are you in the mood for?”
She smiled up at him. “You.”
“Well, ain’t that funny. Hungry for you, too. But we’re gonna need real food sooner or later. Ain’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Hard to resist the delicious meal before me.”
He ran a hand down his own chest. “That’s right. Ain’t no snack, I’m a satisfyin’ meal that’ll fill you up.”
She rolled her eyes. “All right. Let’s not go too far now.”
In response, he rolled over her and took her mouth. It was a while before they both came up for air.
And for food.
It was all worth another sleepless night.
