Craving Constellations (13 page)

“We’re gonna need fortification.”

We got through the boxes quickly, putting my astronomy books on top of the TV as we found them and sorting the clothes into
keep
and
charity
piles. A lot of the clothes were far too small, but by the end of the second box, I had a load of laundry washing in the machine. It was weird going through my old clothes. I had dressed like the perfect wife for so long, and I was nervous to get back into my old gypsy skirts and sundresses. I was listening to Trix talk to herself on the front porch and rubbing an old Drop Kick Murphy’s shirt between my fingers when Vera spoke.

“I’ve heard what you told Slider, but now, I wanna hear it from you. What the hell is going on with you and Dragon?”

I left the house this morning, knowing my day was going to be shit. I didn’t want Brenna to worry. I didn’t know where she got her tender heart from, but I knew she’d freak if she found out what today was. The nonsense from five years ago was finally catching up to me, and I was going to be in a world of hurt tonight.

When I got to the clubhouse, everything was quiet. A few of the boys were sitting around, drinking coffee, but boss man hadn’t come in yet. I walked up to grab a cup just as Poet came in from the back hallway. I wasn’t sure where we stood because most of my time since Brenna got here had been taken up with my trip to Boise or dealing with my girls. I was hoping we could wait to talk after my deal this afternoon, but he headed straight for me.

“Dragon. Got a minute?”

It was a question, but there was only one answer.

“Yeah.”

I walked to the corner of the room to give us a little privacy, but I knew our conversation would be all over the club in a matter of hours. I sat down on one of the couches and rested my elbows on my knees. I wasn’t sure what I was most embarrassed about—the fact that I had no idea who Brenna was the night we’d met or that I’d been pretty much hiding all the shit that went down for over five years.

“Shit is not going to go well for you today.” Poet coughed and then took a sip of his coffee. “I can’t say that I’m glad you were with Brenna. I’m also pretty goddamn angry that you and Grease kept that shit from me. Ya kept my baby from me for five years. That was Brenna’s choice, but a choice she made, so she didn’t see you.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t argue the point because everything he was saying was true. If I woulda manned up, Poet would have dragged Brenna’s ass back here, especially if she was pregnant.

“I had no idea what was in that girl’s head when she ran outta here. Figured she stayed away because she was embarrassed—maybe she didn’t want that husband of hers to know where she came from. Maybe that was part of the reason but not all of it. Once she was gone, I’m thinking he wasn’t gonna let her come back here anyway.”

I stopped him, asking a question I’d been wondering for weeks. “Why didn’t you keep an eye on her? Fuck, Poet!”

“Son, I don’t think you wanna be steppin’ on my toes right now,” he answered calmly, but I knew by the way his accent deepened that I’d pissed him off.

I didn’t care. The thought of Brenna and Trix in the world with no protection made me want to puke. “I got nothing to lose now. Today’s judgment day, right? Might as well ask what the fuck you were thinkin’.” I didn’t care if this got me more of what I had to look forward to later. I wanted to know what the fuck he’d been thinking.

“Son, I’m gonna explain this once, and then you better never question me about it again.” His face looked normal, but his eyes had gone the coldest I’d ever seen them. “I had eyes on Brenna. Always. Boys from a chapter up north kept her on their radar at all times. Eyes only. They saw her only when she left the house. None of them saw nothin’ to make them think that she was in trouble. They were watching for outside problems. Didn’t think to watch the husband.” He shook his head. “She chose him. Figured she would come home if she wasn’t happy. Took her a while, but that’s what she did. Now, I’m done with fucking story hour. You want to get back on my good side, you’ll get the fuck out of this clubhouse and let me forget that you just questioned me about something you got no business in.”

He stood up and walked back to his room without saying a word to anyone else. I still had questions, but I figured that was all I was gonna get from him, so I left. I was anxious about today, and I needed to keep busy or I was gonna lose my mind. Plus, I had business in town that I needed to take care of.

When I got to my apartment, the door was unlocked, and I walked right in. Kendra was sitting on the couch, painting her toenails and talking on the phone. Didn’t know how many times I’d told her to lock the fuckin’ door when I wasn’t here, but the chick never listened.

“Tracy, I gotta call you back. My man’s home!” she squealed and then launched herself off the couch and wrapped her arms and legs around me. “Where have you been?”

“Takin’ care of shit at the club. I told you to lock the door.” I glared down at her. “Lock. The. Door.”

I pushed on her thighs to get her to let me loose. She dropped to her feet and immediately started bitching that I’d ruined her toenail polish. Seriously? She was in her own fuckin’ world. I was standing by the front door, obviously waiting to leave, and the bitch had no clue. I stood there for a second, hoping that she would notice that something was up and ask me about it, but she went back to painting her nails. Finally, I just jumped right into it.

“Yeah, Kendra, this is no good anymore. You need to find another place to live.”

I watched as she stopped ranting and blinked at me for a couple of seconds, like she couldn’t understand what I was talking about.

“What?” she asked me, all wide-eyed and surprised.

I didn’t know why she was surprised. I got home from my run and avoided her for the past few days, and she still hadn’t noticed anything was wrong. Usually, when I got back from a run, I would be all jacked and need an outlet. I was always here the minute I got back and checked in. I’d get some relief and then head out to be with the boys. Sometimes, she came with me, and sometimes, she didn’t, but I always hit home as soon as I’d checked in with Slider.

“Yeah. You got two weeks to find a new place. Feel free to be stay here until you do, but I’m not gonna be here.”

“Where are you going to be then?” Finally catching on, she was not happy. She was doing that thing women do when they were pissed—the hand on the hip with the head cocked to the side.

“Not your business where I’m gonna be. It wasn’t your business before. Why you think I’d tell you now? Find a place to live, Kendra.” I just wanted to get out of here. I had a couple errands to run before I headed back to the clubhouse. My head was already preparing for the rest of my day, and I was barely paying attention to what she was saying.

“What the fuck, Dragon! You’re just going to dump me? Out of the blue, no explanation?” she asked and I nodded. “Is this because of your bitch of a baby mama who hid your kid her entire life? Seriously? You’re dumping me for that redheaded skank?”

“Woman, you’re testing my patience. It’s none of your goddamn business who I’m with. That’s the mother of my child, and you’ll show respect when you talk about her, or I’ll throw your ass out now with nothin’ but the clothes on your goddamn back!”

She shut up pretty quickly when I started yelling, and by the time I was done, she was crying. I felt bad for her, but I had so much shit on my plate, and I just didn’t have time for this.

“Kendra, find a place to live. You can have this place for the next two weeks. You can’t find another place by then, you call me, and we’ll figure something out.”

She rushed to me, deciding that tears weren’t going to get her what she wanted, and she was all over me before I knew what she was doing. She’d unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans before I could get a hold of her and shove her back. Normally, I’d just let her try and make her point and then leave anyway—might as well get a blow job if the bitch is begging—but the thought of her mouth on me just didn’t do anything for me since Brenna had shown up. I shoved her away from me and buttoned my jeans back up easily. Even with her hands all over me, I wasn’t hard at all. Fuck, I didn’t want to be dealing with this drama right now.

Before she could grab me again, I was out the door and on my bike. She stood at the front door and when I yelled up, “Lock the fuckin’ door!”

She smiled at me, and I could tell she was going to be a problem.

I hit a couple of stores in town before I headed back to the club. I stuffed all the shit into my saddlebags and checked my phone for missed calls. Grease had called a couple of times, but he hadn’t left a message, so I figured it was nothing important. I noticed that it was time to head back to the club though, so I cracked my neck and decided to stop stalling. Showtime.

When I got to the club, there was only one brother guarding the gate, a recruit called Curly. The kid’s head was bald and shiny as a cue ball and was glistening in the sun. He gave me a small smile as I rolled through the gate, but it looked like the kid was more nervous than I was. He was probably freaked that he had to stand the gate alone. Recruits weren’t allowed at the house for shit like this, and the only other recruit we had was up at Brenna’s house, making sure she stayed put.

I could hear everybody talking inside the main room, but everyone quieted when I stepped through the door. I looked around the room and found Grease, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. It looked like he was sweating, which was fuckin’ weird because it wasn’t hot out today.

“Dragon, you ready for this?” Slider stepped up next to me.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” I asked him, but I was actually a little glad he came over. It gave me a little more backbone, and my chin lifted a little higher.

We walked out of the main room and headed into an empty garage bay. All the brothers circled around with Slider, Grease, and me in the middle. I looked over to Grease, wondering what the fuck he was doing when Slider started to speak.

“Dragon here’s been lying to his brothers for five long years. He not only disrespected Poet, but then he hid the disrespect, so Poet had to find out five years later. Grease also knew about shit and never spoke up. Poet, Tommy Gun, Razor, and myself had us a little meeting this morning and decided their punishment. While Dragon was the one who fucked Brenna, Grease did his part in this little fiasco and helped him hide it. Each one of you gets one hit. Bare hands. I’m not taking part, but Poet goes last. Make them good, and all of you remember this. I won’t be so lenient if I have to deal with this shit again.”

I was stunned silent for a minute that the punishment was gonna go so easily, but then everything clicked, and I realized Grease was still standing next to me, and the other brothers were lining up.

“Boss! Wait!”

Slider slowly turned around.

“Grease shouldn’t be here. He fuckin’ warned me, but I didn’t listen. He’s fuckin’ stupid, but he shouldn’t be up here.”

Slider stared at me a second, and then I watched his lips turn up. “You gonna take his punishment? I promised my boys two hits, not one.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll take it—”

Grease finally looked up at me. “Don’t do this, man. It’s fine.”

“Get the fuck outta here. But you hit me? I’ll knock you the fuck out.” I gave him a little shove. Still really fuckin’ happy that this shit wasn’t what I’d been thinking. I had one more thing to say, and I found Poet in the crowd. “No hits to the face, yeah? Don’t wanna freak Trix out when I go home tonight.” I held his stare until he nodded, and then I faced the boys and braced myself.

By the time there were only a few brothers left, I was seriously thinking I’d underestimated the punishment. I also figured out why Slider had smiled when I decided to take Grease’s hits. The sneaky fucker had set me up. My ribs were on fire, and I’d already puked my fuckin’ guts out twice. The second time, I had nothing left, and the dry heaves almost made me pass out. It was hard to not fight back when fuckers are hitting you over and over again, especially when you lived your life fighting your way to the top. After the first ten brothers, I’d pretty much blocked everything out, except breathing and staying on my feet, and at that point, I wasn’t even halfway through. By the last ten, I was fighting to stay conscious.

Finally, I caught a glimpse of Poet coming toward me, pushing brass knuckles onto his hands. I thought I muttered, “Oh fuck,” before he knocked my ass out.