We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Brooks: Chapter 7

BROOKS

I sat at the exit of Raven’s townhouse complex and waited for traffic to clear so I could ease myself back out onto the road. Normally, I’d blaze a trail of my own volition and give a bright, spanking-new middle finger to anyone who didn’t agree. But this time? I took my precious time. I had so many great memories in this place. Memories of picking up Gage before we went away for biker’s weekends. Memories of escorting the newly-wedded couple to and from their home while they packed up and went away on their honeymoon. Memories of toilet-papering Gage’s place the night before Halloween just to piss him off the next morning.

“Damn it, I miss my best friend,” I hissed.

After traffic finally cleared, though, I eased myself onto the road. Better to leave with the good memories than potentially make bad ones trying to force myself into a situation Raven didn’t want me in. I mean, it wasn’t like she ever responded to my letters. Or picked up the phone when I called from the prison. Or came to visit me, despite the fact that I put her name on the “welcomed people” list.

So, why the fuck was I showing up to her place anyway?

“She’s probably with someone else by now anyway,” I said with a snicker.

Not that it was important. Raven was a beautiful woman and she had lost her husband in one of the most tragic ways one could lose a husband. So, why wouldn’t she seek the comfort of another man during her time of grief? There wasn’t anything wrong with that. People did it all the time. Fucking around to get out the pain, anger, and sorrow was what we men in clubs like mine did best.

Hell, that was practically our weekly therapist appointment.

And Raven was beautiful. No, no, beyond beautiful. She was breathtaking in every way, and every time she walked into any sort of establishment, she turned the heads of single and married men alike. It used to always piss Gage off, men staring at his wife. But I always thought it was kind of funny. I always thought Gage should’ve been proud at the fact that he was about to show Raven off every chance he got, but that was neither here nor there.

The point was, the woman’s drop dead gorgeous and she probably already had someone cleaning out her pipes.

“For all I know, she’s completely forgotten about me,” I murmured to myself.

Five years could do a lot to someone. It did a lot to me. I always slept with one eye open, and I knew that trend would continue. I didn’t get along with people anymore like I once did, and I knew that trend would also continue, especially with Chops as president. I also didn’t trust people anymore, except for Porter.

So, who was to say Raven didn’t change in all sorts of ways over the years?

You made the right decision.

You know she saw you. She had it. It wasn’t like you were concealed.

The shadows had your back, bro. She didn’t see shit.

And if she did see you but you chose to leave anyway? What then? What will you tell her then?

That question gave me pause. So much pause that I didn’t realize the stoplight in front of me had changed from red to green. Some old woman behind me laid on her horn and I pulled off to the side of the road, giving myself a second to catch my breath.

Did she really see me?

Before I had a chance to answer that question myself, I heard a rumbling in the distance. I peered over my shoulder and tried to pinpoint where the noise came from, but then I felt it. I felt it beneath my feet as the tar of the street vibrated. I felt the whooshing of wind as bikes soared down the road, and it caused me to whip my head around. I watched three bikes fly past me at blazing speed, carving out a trail in traffic that caused people to blow their horns and hang out of their windows while cursing the drivers of those bikes.

And I recognized their leather cuts.

The Black Flags.

I turned my bike around and pulled a U-turn in the middle of an intersection during a red light. Why the fuck were the Black Flags on this side of town anyway? It wasn’t their home turf, and that meant something was going down.

“Right place, right time. You still got it,” I growled.

I cranked my bike as fast as it could go and tried to catch up to the fuckers. But when I saw them pulling into Raven’s townhome complex, I slowed to a stop. I blinked a few times just to make sure I saw them go in the right entrance. However, when I saw their bikes slipping down into the small slice of paradise, my gut clenched.

What the hell are you guys doing?

I let off the gas and let gravity take hold. I silenced the engine of my bike and turned it off, allowing the downslopes of the hill to pull me where I needed to be. I counted three bikes with three different douchebags, all sporting those disgusting black leather jackets with white and yellow emblems on the back.

A bunch of bullshit bumblebees, if you asked me.

My bike slowed to a stop just inside of the shade of one of the oak trees that managed to grow on this property, and I waited. I watched as the guys talked amongst themselves before one of them pointed, and I followed his finger. I narrowed my eyes as I slid off my bike. I reached for my holster, hoping to find the butt of my gun there just in case I needed it.

Except I was fresh out of fucking prison and I couldn’t have a gun.

“Damn it,” I hissed.

I walked around to the storage compartment on the back of my bike and dug around for my knives. I always kept a set of throwing knives on me in case I found myself in a situation just like this one. I pulled five of them out and dangled the sharp objects from the fingertips on my left hand, readying myself to take any one of them and chuck them at these guys’ heads.

Because they were pointing at Raven’s front door.

A couple of the guys patted the largest brute on the back before he started for her porch. And despite everything inside of me wanting to charge that man and rip his fucking legs off, I stayed put. Maybe this was a harmless visit. Maybe they were simply paying their respects.

Because maybe she’s in bed with one of the Black Flags.

The idea made me sick to my stomach. Raven knew exactly how disgusting and how wrong these men were. They dealt in things my club didn’t agree with, like prostitution and drug-running.

Oh shit, maybe they were the ones that framed Hyde.

I licked my lips as the man hopped up onto her porch. He turned around and held up his hands, as if expecting some sort of encore from his pals that were still seated on their bikes. They pumped their fists in the air as if they were watching the best show on television, and it briefly confirmed my fears.

No man ever boasted like that unless he was about to get some.

I shook my head as I leaned against the tree. No use in standing by to watch, just in case. But I knew this could go either way. Either they were here to do harm to Raven and it was my job to put them down like the dirty dogs they were, or that guy was here to get a slice of her.

In which case, Raven would become a person of interest for my club.

I mean she held intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the Dirty Misfits. Being married to Gage all of those years allowed her to be privy to some of our more intimate and dirty dealings. She could take us down with the knowledge I knew she had, though she probably didn’t even realize it.

Is she trading the information?

Is she just looking for some comfort?

Did she flip because of her anger toward the club?

I knew enough to know that Raven blamed us for Gage’s death. I knew her well enough to know that was why she shut everyone out. For a while, Porter and Cole were my two most frequent visitors to the prison, and they told me of all the horrible things she said to them whenever they went to check up on her. They told me about Gage’s funeral, and how her eulogy she gave practically spat in the face of the entire club.

She held a great deal of anger toward us, and rightfully so.

Especially since there were still so many questions that surrounded that night.

“Stay alert,” I whispered to myself.

I watched the man knock on the door continuously, like I used to do. It made me sick to my stomach to think that a man like that was knocking on her door. Beckoning for her, when he didn’t even deserve the scraps from her fucking dinner table. I wasn’t sure what was going on, or whether she was now friendly with our enemies. But I knew one thing was for certain.

If Raven looked to be in distress, I’d be there to save her.

Whether she wanted it or not, I’d make sure she stayed safe. Whether she wanted me or not, I’d always be there for her. Whether she loved me the way I loved her or not, I’d always make sure she had a roof over her head, a place to lay her head at night, and food on the table.

Because that was what best friends did for one another.

They looked after each other’s loved ones that always got left behind.

I’ve got you. Gage. One hundred percent.

I watched the door open, but I couldn’t see Raven’s face. I couldn’t see how she reacted to her little visitor, so I paid attention to him. I kept my eyes bouncing between the man on the porch and the two men still perched on their bikes. And out of nowhere, a nauseating thought crossed my mind.

What if she set Gage up?

For a split second, rage filled my entire body. For a split second, everything turned red. The idea that Raven could’ve been working with the Black Flags all along made me more murderous than I’d ever felt in my entire life. Bloodlust wasn’t something I indulged. That was more Chops’ avenue than anything else. But for the first time in my life, I justified the capture of a woman.

Because if she betrayed my best friend and got him killed, she’d answer for her crimes.

“Come on, you know her better than that,” I whispered.

Do you really, though?

“She’s a good girl. Always has been.”

Or is that all an act?

“Of course, it’s not. I was just here and all she was doing was watering her flowers.”

Hitler had an entire garden to himself that he tended to everyday.

I wished for the voice in my head to have a face so I could punch its teeth back into its brain. But the longer I sat there and watched the current predicament unfold, the more I worried that my brain was right.

Because no one seemed hostile toward one another.

If anything, everything seemed almost friendly.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset